Felis Domesticus
by xChibi-Nick
Summary: As punishment for his insufferable rudeness, Grimmjow is transformed into a harmless house cat by Aizen and thrown into the human world. His predicament only worsens as a certain orange-haired Shinigami stumbles upon him. GrimmxIchi. Rating may go up.
1. One

Felis Domesticus

A/N: Heh… I've **always** wanted to write this pairing. It was simply too irresistible, and don't tell me you sick fangirls have never imagined Grimmjow in this situation before… XD

Disclaimer: You guys know better than to say I own the anime/manga, Bleach, no?

Warnings: This is pretty much a yaoi fic, with lots of groping and loving between males. You guys can all handle that, right? And no, there will be no beastiality in this fic. I'll work… around it… somehow…

**1**

* * *

Grimmjow liked to think of himself as a simple being.

Simple, not as in retarded or simple-minded, but as in low maintenance. He generally viewed situations as 'you do or you don't' and of course, he had a rather one-track mind. He knew what he liked and what he hated, and he always knew what he wanted. He was the 'kill now, ask questions later' type, and the 'I'll deal with it when it comes' type. He valued only two things: his pride and his ability to fight. And he was most prideful of the fact that he could take one look at something and hate it. Just because he rather disliked many things didn't mean he wasn't low maintenance. His view of the world was very black and white, just with more on the black side.

Grimmjow was the antithesis of Ulquiorra, the brazen idiot to the other Espada, the bane of existence to Tousen, and the little fool to Aizen. But that was all perfectly fine because Grimmjow hated them all anyway. He hated Ulquiorra because the Cuarta Espada was the most high maintenance, sucking-up bitch that was ever created. Not to mention his 'green eyes of death' stare could suck the soul out of lesser beings – which Grimmjow was pretty sure that was exactly how Ulquiorra ate souls. He hated Tousen Kaname because if there was a single shred of justice on the man, Grimmjow would gladly cero his own white-clad ass. But more so than anything else, he hated Aizen Sousuke. He hated drinking the man's brainwashing shit tea. He hated listening to the man's soft yet commanding voice that could bring the entire Hueco Mundo to its knees. He hated the man's all-knowing smile, and he hated the fact that they were all nothing more than lapdogs to him. Just the sight of Ulquiorra and Aizen interacting with each other made Grimmjow sick.

Grimmjow didn't believe in karma. Some people just hadit coming. Grimmjow also didn't believe in any god. If there was a god somewhere, he would have long delivered Grimmjow from Hueco Mundo. He had resigned to the fact that he was very much alone, but that was also perfectly fine because he was strong and independent enough to take care of himself. Grimmjow always pulled himself up by his own bootstraps, and he wouldn't have it any other way. Showing dependency meant weakness, and he couldn't tolerate weakness. He tended to look down upon weak things, leading him to hate Gillian, humans, and small furry animals. Among other things.

If you ask Grimmjow, he'd say it all started with Ulquiorra's bitch. Inoue Orihime. Not that he wasn't grateful for her restoring his arm, but a fragile heart-of-gold human like her really had no place in Hueco Mundo. Her presence also meant one more person worshipping Aizen's footprints, forced to or not. Now Grimmjow admits he's not exactly a _nice_, _caring_, and _sympathetic _Hollow. In fact, he was very _rude_ and _insufferable_, in addition to his extremely liberal word choice. His speech could be caustic and downright mean, and he didn't like to repeat himself. He was someone mothers hid their children away from and he was definitely a heartbreaker.

And he must have left quite a gash on Orihime's heart.

Next thing he knew, he was staring into Ulquiorra's unnerving green eyes and hearing the monotone words, "Aizen-sama requests your presence." So Grimmjow's tongue ran a little ahead of himself and decided to be abusive to Orihime one bored day. Not like Ulquiorra treated her any better. But it didn't mean the girl should let it slip to Ulquiorra and the little rat should tattle on Aizen. Which, of course, they all did anyway. He found himself left with no choice than to follow Ulquiorra to Aizen's chambers.

Yes, Grimmjow firmly believed there was no god.

Entering their leader's chambers did nothing to alleviate Grimmjow's mood. At the far end, right before the balcony, sat Aizen. As usual, he was flanked by his shinigami associates: Ichimaru Gin and Tousen Kaname. Also standing dutifully beside Aizen was Orihime, her large doe eyes cast meekly to the pristine floor. The door behind them shut with a dull clang and Grimmjow almost sneered at the scene. Everyone in the room was someone he hated. All it took was Aizen's maddening voice lecturing him for the icing on the cake. Or maybe the appearance of a small furry animal from somewhere.

Grimmjow forced himself to look into his leader's chocolate-brown eyes. It wouldn't do to ruin his strong and independent image in front of the people he hated. Aizen's posture was unnaturally laid back and Gin's smile was even wider than usual. Grimmjow quickly quelled the voice in the back of his head whispering that this could only mean disaster for him.

"So, Grimmjow, I hear you've not been on your best behavior to our guest." Aizen's tone was always kind and warm, but his word choice conveyed his ridicule and derision.

"He's never on his best behavior… Always causing some kind of unwanted trouble…" Tousen muttered from his place behind Aizen's chair. Grimmjow gritted his teeth, fervently wishing Tousen would spontaneously combust on the spot. At least Tousen didn't look like he would slice off Grimmjow's arm this time. Though, that didn't mean something equally nasty wouldn't happen to him.

Aizen's mellow gaze never left him, his chin supported on one curled fist while the other hand tapped idly on the armrest. Those dark eyes roved up and down Grimmjow's figure, drinking in the slouching stance and defiant cerulean orbs. Aizen allowed himself a small twitch of his immaculate lips; the Sexta Espada really was one of his finer creations, too bad that he always played hard to get and had a knack for causing an uproar. It was regrettable that he wasn't at all malleable as his favorite, the Cuarta Espada, was. There was a missing ingredient to Grimmjow. Aizen 'hmm'-ed softly; what was the missing ingredient?

_Ah… Humility._

"I must say that I agree with Tousen. And not just this time, but in the past, you have repeatedly demonstrated dismissal to guests and superiors. You are too impulsive, Grimmjow. Perhaps it is time for you to learn some respect and humility." Aizen smoothed his face to look sterner, performing the role of a parent admonishing a child perfectly. "And I have just the idea…"

Aizen abruptly stood and began walking towards Grimmjow, the fist that he had used to prop his chin uncurled to reveal the Hougyoku. The artifact hovered slightly above his open palm, emitting a luminescent white glow. This was the key to all of Aizen's power, ripped from the body of Kuchiki Rukia and tucked safely away from Soul Society. This was the key to the transformation of all Hollow to Arrancar, fueling the army of Hueco Mundo. However, Aizen had other plans with the transformation powers of the Hougyoku.

Like watching a worst nightmare twisting into reality, Grimmjow was utterly horrified at the sight before him. His glittering cerulean eyes stretched impossibly wide and his body tingled unpleasantly as if he suddenly jumped into a pit of freezing water. Realization felt like a unbroken horse kicking him in the crotch. _Anything _was better than facing the Hougyoku a second time. He would give up a limb without second thoughts if it meant that he could continue to exist as an Arrancar and not as an inferior masked Hollow again. For everyone in Hueco Mundo knew that the Hougyoku giveth and the Hougyoku taketh away. All at the whim of Aizen. Grimmjow never thought Aizen would go this far to teach him a lesson. It was too late for any regrets. It was too late for even begging. Aizen had made up his mind.

In answer to the terror-struck look on Grimmjow's face, Aizen only smiled warmly. "Don't worry, Grimmjow. It would only be a loss to me if I were to transform you back into a Menos. I require your strength as a full Arrancar still. The change I have in mind is only temporary until I see that you have learned your place." The Hougyoku suddenly glowed even brighter and a hazy transparent box encircled Grimmjow figure, preventing any attempts at escape.

Grimmjow was almost too stunned to express his relief. One moment he was sure he was resigning from the position of Sexta Espada again with no hope of ever returning, and the next, unsure of Aizen's true intentions. What did Aizen want to transfrom him into, if not to revert him back into a Menos? Aizen's face through the transparent Hougyoku box appeared much too relaxed for Grimmjow's liking. It resembled a 'calm before the storm' face, and Grimmjow had an itching feeling he was in for a nasty surprise. He had no time to ponder further, as the interior of the box began glowing like a thousand fireflies.

It started with a floating feeling, like the ground underneath suddenly fell away. Then, a succession of sharp tingles shot through every bone in his body. He barely managed to suppress a strangled sound forcing its way out his mouth when he felt his very bones contort and contract, his well-developed muscles and taunt skin molding to fit around the reshaped bones. There was no pain, just a intense awkward sensation like nothing he had ever experienced before. And he wasn't sure if he ever wanted to experience it again. The distortion of his bones inceased, spreading from his torso to each of his limbs, finally ending with his head. The reshaping of his head was by far the strangest feeling of all. Some invisible force was squeezing his head, but there was no pain that usually accompanied severe squeezing. He screwed his eyes shut, trying not to concentrate on the elongation of his jaw and the realignment of his ears higher on top his head.

_Just what in hell was he transfoming into?_

As quickly as the process had begun, it ended. The squeezing ceased and a dull thud resounded as his feet hit solid floor again. He blinked, noticing the glowing and the transparent box had disappeared. Instead, he found himself staring straight into the hem of a white-colored fabric, a pair of black-clad feet peeking out underneath. Instant confusion swept through him, his brows furrowing as he tried to comprehend why the floor was so close to his face, and why he was distinctly feeling _smaller_. With trepidation, he slowly tilted his face upward, following the white fabric.

And jumped a few paces back at the sight.

Up there, so impossibly tall, was Aizen. He looked just like the last time Grimmjow saw him, except now his face was at least five feet above his own. The smile on Aizen's face grew wider and he swiftly turned on his heels, walking back to his chair. Grimmjow swiveled his head back and forth, panicking at the sight of everyone else exactly as tall as Aizen, faces peering down at him many feet above. How did everyone grow so tall so fast? He opened his mouth to rudely voice his confusion, demading to know what exactly had just happened.

"Meow!"

Grimmjow froze. Did that _noise_ come from him? He hesitantly opened his mouth again, deciding on lowering his voice. Maybe that was the problem.

"Purr…"

The panic crashed down upon him ten-fold. He had a sneaking suspicion of what exactly he had transformed into, and hoped with all his might that it was all a cruel joke Aizen decided to play. In denial, he lifted a hand, his mind racing into overdrive as black fur met his gaze. The fur extended into a well-shaped _paw_, gleaming nails protruding from between segments of fur, and smooth pink _pads_ lining the palm. He frantically swatted at his face, confirming the existence of more fur, a soft wet nose, and the most horrifying of all, a set of whiskers. God had truly abandoned him.

A small noise escaped Orihime's lips, her mouth forming a delicate 'o' and light shone within the depths of her large eyes, turning her expression immediately brighter. Gin clapped his hands together, grinning exceptionally wide, and strode forward. "If that isn't the cutest thing!" He all but gushed.

Suddenly, Grimmjow felt a pair of hands gripping him around the waist, hoisting him up in one smooth motion. Too shocked to resist, he let himself be settled in Gin's arms, nestled against his flat chest. Another wave of panic washed through him as he noticed just how snug he fit within a grown human's arms. He opened his mouth desperately, dismayed at the continual mewls and purrs whenever he tried to speak.

Gin turned so they both faced Aizen's chair, one hand sneaking up to softly pet between his twitching ears. "Would you like to see how you look?" Gin spoke from behind. Without waiting for any reply – not that Grimmjow could give it – Aizen waved a hand, dispatching his zanpakutou to reappear in the image of a tall mirror. "You, Grimmjow, now belong to the species _Felis Domesticus_, or in other words, a common house cat." Aizen's voice betrayed his mirth and enjoyment.

A pair of glowing electric blue eyes stared back at him. Gone was anything human-resembling, instead, he was now very much a cat. His fur was a beautiful sleek black, though faint traces of dark blue could be seen when the light hit. Gone was his jawbone, the only remnant of his Hollow mask. Now, a black tail twitched from its place tucked under Gin's arms. He opened his mouth once more, revealing a set of sharper teeth and a long pink tongue in between.

Grimmjow wanted to scream and rage against the world.

This was immeasureably worse than being turned into even a mindless Gillian. At least it still had the power of a cero blast. A cat could only scratch and claw, being a threat to nothing but mice. He let out a cry of frustration, wriggling and squirming his way out of Gin's arms. Anger invaded his mind and he wanted nothing more than to pounce on Aizen and rip his face off with his claws. How dare he turn the fearsome Grimmjow, the _Sexta Espada_, into a mere house cat! The name also implied that he was tamed and house-broken, furthering the shame and humiliation. He had never felt so much pure rage for his self-proclaimed leader.

"Now now, Grimmjow, there's no need to act like that! The change is only temporary…" Gin tried to soothe him, rubbing his pale hands all over his belly and attempting to pet his head again. "In fact, because you'll obviously be no more use here in Hueco Mundo until you've transformed back, we've even arranged for you to stay in the human world. I believe the conditions there are much more appealing to a cat like yourself…"

At this, Grimmjow only struggled even harder. He didn't trust a single word from Gin's lips, they were all going to abandon him in the human world, poor and defenseless as a house cat, just because he let his tongue slip once too many. He cursed his horrible fate, mewling loudly, still trying to reach Aizen. This was all his devising in the first place. But Gin held on firmly, and a cat was simply no match for an experienced Shinigami captain's hands, former or not.

"Just watch out for the dogs, Grimmjow…" Gin rubbed him one last time before transferring him to another set of hands. Grimmjow turned his head around, hissing at the sight of the Cuarta Espada's stony face. They weren't even going to grant him a pleasant last image of Hueco Mundo. Aizen was very thorough in his plans, after all.

A ripping sound thundered behind Grimmjow as Ulquiorra opened a Garganta to the human world. The black crevice never looked so ominous and foreboding. In one last desperate attempt, he scratched at Ulquiorra's chest, hissing and biting. The Cuarta Espada didn't bother to stop him, and Grimmjow looked up to stare deep into those green orbs, hoping his own gaze contained as much hatred as he tried to convey with his glare. Ulquiorra didn't even blink, though his expression molded into something resembling a stony smug look, a sense of righteous punishment pouring out from the emerald depths. He swiftly stepped into the Garganta and the smell and sounds of the human world soon invaded Grimmjow's heightened senses. Then, without any forewarning, he tossed Grimmjow out the mouth of the Garganta, sealing it shut behind him.

Only one thought crossed Grimmjow's mind as he whistled through the air, the ground rapidly approaching his feline body. _Fuck you, Ulquiorra. Fuck you._

* * *

A/N: Let this be a warning to you all, karma bites. XD

Though, it is too late for our poor hapless Grimmjow. Perhaps Ichigo can right this mess, hmm?


	2. Two

Felis Domesticus

A/N: From all the gushing reviews I received, I'm proud to announce that you are all sick fangirls like me… Let's be friends! XD

**2**

* * *

Surprisingly, Grimmjow learned an important concept barely ten seconds after being literally tossed into the human world.

Cats always landed right-side up. Always.

He couldn't describe how he did it. One moment he was flailing through the air, the next, landing with a jarring thump on top a shingled roof, miraculously on all fours. He was quite relieved that he wasn't injured, or worse, dead – which Ulquiorra most likely intended. The bastard.

Thoughts of Ulquiorra quickly lead to thoughts of an even bigger bastard: Aizen Sousuke. Grimmjow growled and furiously clawed at the roof, cursing Aizen in the foulest way he could think of. He felt _bitter_, _resentful_, and _murderous_, the negative emotions swirling within his mind and clouding his judgment. Everything was so wrong! This was the most outrageous punishment anyone could have received and completely unforeseen. There wasn't any sort of warning or mercy, just a swift blow to shatter him. It wasn't fair, damnit! Grimmjow tore into the shingles with the force of all his frustrations in every scratch or bite, thoroughly abusing the innocent roof. He had to unleash the rage building within him somehow.

Tucked deep in the back of his mind however, Grimmjow knew this was the perfect punishment. For him to be trapped defenseless in the body of a house cat was severely demeaning. He was utterly humiliated, certainly a joke now in Hueco Mundo when word leaked out. Demoted to barely a fraction of what it was before, his image was now _soft_, _cuddly_, and _cute_ – the companion of underage schoolgirls or mentally unstable frail old ladies. Whatever was left of his unconquerable pride had since committed suicide. Aizen truly had the last laugh.

Grimmjow huffed, glaring maliciously at a mangled corner of a shingle. Against his will, helplessness welled within him. The once foreign emotion was worse than anything he had ever experienced. Worse than pain, worse than hunger for souls, worse than even getting his ass kicked by filthy Shinigami. A Hollow simply didn't feel helpless; they die facing death, still reaching out for their prey. It was quite a change to suddenly be degraded to an animal that filthy humans kept as _pets_. The most obstinate parts of Grimmjow were still in denial. This all had to be either a real shitty dream or a real shitty prank that only a bastard like Aizen could execute flawlessly.

When the jagged edges of the shingle began hurting his gums, Grimmjow finally lifted his head and examined his surroundings. He had landed in a modern town, the two-story houses lined up in neat rows and the small streets mostly empty and clean. From the position of the bright spring sun, the time was around mid-afternoon. The happy chirps of birds mingled with the distant noises of car engines; a warm breeze whispered across Grimmjow's fur, even the very smell on the air was of life and a new beginning. It was indeed a far cry from the dead, treacherous, and desolate desert of Las Noches. Grimmjow hated spring. It also bothered him how _familiar_ the town looked, almost as if he had been there before.

Stepping close to the edge of the roof, Grimmjow peered over and judged the distance from the roof to the ground. He was two stories high, but if he used the drainpipe and his own momentum, it was possible for him to jump to the ground. Coiling his entire feline body like a spring, he leapt onto the drainpipe, then pushed himself off, following a zigzag pattern across the wall of the house until his feet landed gracefully onto the concrete sidewalk. Immediately, he raised his head and scanned his surroundings warily, trying to discern any danger now that he was at a lower ground. When he didn't sense any, he proceeded to move forward.

Once again, Grimmjow found himself overwhelmed by how disproportionally larger everything was. However, walking on all fours again reminded him of the time when he was still a Menos: an Adjuchas-class Hollow retaining the shape of a panther. Hueco Mundo seemed much bigger back then, living in a kill or be killed world of the Menos Forest, relishing in the adrenaline rush before an attack. He supposed ever since he became an Arrancar and started living in Las Noches, he had grown lazy. The Hollows of Menos Forest were no longer formidable foes, but flies that could easily be swatted down. Now that he was once again removed from the top of the food chain, he could feel his old survival instincts return. Granted the human world was far less harsh than the Menos Forest, but he would still require basic survival instincts to last as a relatively harmless animal. His walk was neither too fast or too slow, always looking ahead but never dragging behind.

A few blocks away from the house where he had landed was a park. Grimmjow tried to slink past the area as quickly and quietly as possible, not wanting to draw attention to himself. The park was full of small children, running around or playing on the playground. Carefree laughter and delighted screams reached Grimmjow's ears, causing him to twitch. He hated little kids too. The brats were annoying and always needed someone to take care of them. He hated little kids crying their lungs out even more. The high-pitched wailings were absolutely horrific. Grimmjow dove behind a trashcan just as a group of rowdy children ran past, chasing each other. He growled in annoyance before continuing on, eager to bypass the park without any trouble.

"Look, everyone! A kitty!"

Grimmjow couldn't believe his luck. Without pausing to even turn around, he immediately took off in the opposite direction of the voice. A meaty hand clamped down upon his tail, the palm slick with sweat. He yelped as the hand yanked him back, pulling him into a circle of small children. More hands reached out to him, and Grimmjow found his sensitive nose filled with the reeking smell of sweaty bodies.

"Aww! It's so cute!" A squeal from a blond girl with pigtails.

"Look at its fur! It looks almost blue!" A gasp from a plump boy.

"I wonder who's it is? I bet it belongs to a rich lady… I hear they breed animals to look unique." Another boy spoke up.

"Maybe we can play with it!" One girl suggested, squealing along with the first girl.

_Or we can let him go!_ Grimmjow thought furiously, mewling loudly as hands carelessly grabbed chunks of his fur. Other hands attempted to pet or rub him, scratching too hard on his skull or leaving disgusting streaks of sweat on his smooth fur. He tried to scratch his way out of the crowd of children, but firm hands held on to his legs as well. He tried hissing and biting at the violating hands, but the girls only giggled and told him to be 'a good girl'.

"Whatcha guys all lookin' at?!" A loud, rude voice broke through the chatter of children crowded around him. Suddenly, the chatter ceased and the hands miraculously let go, the children backing away. Grimmjow turned towards the new sound, grateful for the timely intrusion.

_Whack!_ Grimmjow jumped backward, hissing as a throbbing pain blossomed across his side. He looked up into the ugly face of a large and fat boy, a mean grin plastered on his dirty face. In one hand, he held a large stick that he used to hit Grimmjow, the other hand clenched into a tight fist. "Hey look guys! It's a smelly cat!" The boy laughed, snorting as he did so. Grimmjow had no doubt he was looking straight at the playground bully. He still couldn't believe his luck.

The bully advanced on him, swinging his stick at Grimmjow, cackling with every blow. Grimmjow ducked and evaded, his reflexes slightly faster than the wide sweeping motions of the stick. He felt ridiculous, playing fight with a ten-year-old. Aizen was probably looking down at him, bursting a spleen with laughter. A jagged corner of the stick nicked Grimmjow's downy ear, and he felt the rage he had experienced before coursing through him again. _Who the hell was this uglier-than-Ulquiorra kid trying to pick a fight with an Espada?! _Seizing the opportunity when the bully raised his stick again, Grimmjow leapt up and gripped onto the front of the bully's bulging belly. With a swift motion, he sank his teeth into the stomach, giving a sharp bite before leaping back down and running the other way as fast as he could. He heard the loud wail of the bully and the command, "After it!" Soon, the footsteps of the bully's cronies thudded after him.

_I'm out of your league, kid. Maybe when you become a Shinigami we can have a real fight._ Grimmjow smirked and quickened his pace, intent to lose the cronies and finally escape the terrors of the playground.

Taking an abrupt left into an empty street, Grimmjow quickly hid behind a tall fence. The oblivious children chasing him ran past unaware. He waited until the distant sounds of their footsteps died away before stepping out. The incident had left him painfully aware of just how defenseless he was. If he couldn't escape the clutches of fawning _children_, how could he hope to stand a chance against real threats to his life? Past the hopelessness, he felt utterly pathetic. He was given a first-hand experience of why he hated small furry animals. Grimmjow walked on, refusing to sulk, but making a poor attempt at not doing so. His ears stood high above his head, straining for any suspicious sounds.

It was at that moment when he heard it: a roaring sound that chilled the bones and struck fear deep within the soul. It was a roar filled with pain and anguish. It was a roar that hungered for powerful spirits, its appetite never sated. It was a roar heralding imminent chaos and death.

The unmistakable roar of a Hollow.

Grimmjow's ears immediately flattened against his skull. All his senses were on high alert, and a prickling sensation trailed down his spine. He was in no position to be anywhere _near_ a Hollow in his current state. He just hoped the Hollow was chasing a random plus spirit and not somehow attracted to his reiatsu. Cautiously, he slowly walked forward, making as little noise as possible. Being in a cat form tampered with his reiatsu detection; it was now fuzzy, replaced by a more acute five senses. He was forced to rely more on his sense of hearing, smell, and sight than his previous sense of reiatsu patterns. Still creeping along the sidewalk, keeping as low as possible to the ground, Grimmjow stealthily began crossing a deserted intersection.

He swung his head to the right, watching the road, and froze in midstep. His luminescent cat eyes expanded to the size of saucers, taking in the view.

A Hollow, easily the height of a one-story house, leered down at him. Its bleached white mask glinted in the low afternoon sun, casting a light red shadow underneath the empty eyeholes. As if Fate had desired to toy with him herself, the Hollow possessed the distinct form of a dog. Though, instead of ears, two curved horns protruded from its head, and its tail was a lethal whip-like appendage. The Hollow even salivated, twin trails of drool dribbling down its gaping mouth and splattering onto the street below. It tilted its head back, giving another roar of agony, before a thick tongue snaked out to lick its white mask.

Grimmjow's mind told him he was downright fucked, to say the least.

He didn't even need to think, all the energy within his body focused to his feet, and he bolted for his very life. He tore down the deserted lane in the opposite direction, aware of the Hollow giving chase. Out of the frying pan and into the fire described Grimmjow's current position incredibly well. He would gladly run back into the thick arms of the playground bully if it meant he could escape from this Hollow. He would gladly run back into the statue-like arms of even Ulquiorra if it meant he could escape from this Hollow. At least Ulquiorra wouldn't immediately kill him without Aizen's command, and in such a barbaric way as this Hollow undoubtedly would. In fact, he took back everything nasty he said about Ulquiorra and Aizen, deciding that giving his life wasn't worth a snicker at their expense. Funny how life-and-death situations made you desperate like that.

Grimmjow could feel the presence of the Hollow behind him, its feet creating loud heavy sounds as they crashed against the pavement with every step. He ran with all his might, knowing that even at that speed, he could still lose his life. He was simply too small to move great distances in short amounts of time. The Hollow had every advantage over him; if an adult human plus spirit couldn't evade a Hollow, how could he possibly outrun it? Grimmjow could hear the frantic thumping of his heart within his chest, furiously pumping enough blood to prolong his sprint. For all he knew, it could be his last.

A great paw suddenly lashed out, trying to swipe down upon the cat. Grimmjow's reflexes sprang into action, causing him to leap into the air. He had managed to dodge the paw at the last second, but the tip of a sharp claw caught his back leg. A spurt of blood leaked from the gash and Grimmjow clenched his jaw in pain. He could feel the sticky warm liquid trickling down his leg, leaving an irregular trail behind him. He had to keep on running, he couldn't afford to slow down despite the throbbing in his leg.

A great puff of hot fetid air blew from the Hollow's mouth, causing Grimmjow's fur to bristle. The Hollow was gaining on him, and there was nothing he could do about it. The pants of hot air tormented him, letting him know just how far behind the Hollow was. The tip of its hard bony nose occasionally brushed against his tail, sending spasm after spasm of desperation through him. A moment later, a swishing sound reached his ears, and the whip-like tail wrapped securely around him. A yelp of shock escaped his lips, and he found himself being raised high off the ground, his legs hanging uselessly in the air. Looking down, he saw the Hollow twist his head back to give a triumphant roar, dangling his form above the Hollow's own back. He was now in the perfect position to be thrown right into the Hollow's waiting mouth.

Grimmjow could only feel pathetic. He was currently being dangled like a plaything by a low-level Menos. It was incapable of conscious rational thought, unlike him, and solely driven by its hunger for souls. Normally, a Menos like this one would be like an ant underneath his feet, not even worth crushing. Now, he was completely at the non-existent mercy of it. He could almost laugh hysterically at the cards karma had dealt him. It was damn rich. He wondered if he should even struggle, if that would do him any amount of good. Nothing short of a miracle would save him now. He, the fearsome Sexta Espada, had lasted less than two hours in the human world. That had to be a new record in pathetic.

Perhaps karma was not as cruel as it could have been. Perhaps it finally felt sorry for Grimmjow. Whatever the case, a blur shot past them and suddenly a splash of black blood arched through the air. A piercing howl of pain rang out from the Hollow and the tail loosened from Grimmjow's body. He found himself once again free-falling towards the ground, watching as the Hollow's tail detached from its body. Next thing he knew, he landed facedown right onto something firm and smooth with a dull thump.

Grimmjow just about had enough of the tossing around and crash landings. He raised his head a little, blinking at the expanse of sheer _black_ filling his vision. The blackness felt like fabric underneath his paws and the thin skin of his belly. His thoughts were quickly cut off as the feeling of being airborne assaulted his senses and his face was once again buried within the fabric. The sheer smell of it overwhelmed him; whatever had caught him smelled like a mixture of cologne, laundry detergent, and antiseptic. Grimmjow felt his nose twitch. Just like the town, this smell bothered him on how familiar it was, almost as if he had smelled it before.

There was a flurry of motion and Grimmjow felt himself being wrapped again, though the grip was less harsh. His face was hidden from the world, but he could clearly hear the sounds of slicing, clanking, and the continuous roars of the Hollow. Evidently, a miracle had happened, and someone had saved him and was now doing intense battle with the Hollow. It did nothing to boost Grimmjow's pride as the only being that could battle a Hollow was a Shinigami, which would explain the black fabric. A twinge of humiliation shot through him, saved by the enemy. It couldn't get any better than this.

Only a few moments passed before the street was quiet again, the Hollow's cries ending when it was presumably killed by the Shinigami clutching him. A clacking sound echoed, and Grimmjow knew they had landed safely on the ground. He raised his head off the fabric, intent on getting a look at his savior, when a sword came into view. It was pointed down, set against his savior's back, white strips of cloth wrapping around the metal securely. Realization hit him hard; he could recognize that sword anywhere. It was the only sword of its shape, its owner holding so much reiatsu that it was unsealable, always in its shikai form. The urge to see his savior's face died like the Hollow. He didn't need to see it anymore, he already knew. Everything made perfect sense. What a hand karma had dealt him indeed. But he tilted his small face upwards anyway, following the strong neck up to the equally strong jaw. A thin mouth met his gaze, then a nose, a pair of deep brown eyes, and finally, the trademark orange hair. Another wave of cologne washed over him, but Grimmjow couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight. This was the culmination of Aizen's prank and Grimmjow's despair.

He had landed right in Karakura Town and he was staring inches away straight into the face of Kurosaki Ichigo.

* * *

A/N: You can't get a better ending than that. :D I could just hear the drum roll and dun dun dun's… and I thought to myself, "What a perfect place to end!"

So I did.


	3. Three

Felis Domesticus

A/N: I am not ashamed to say that I just about cried when I saw the feedback to this fic, which the idea most probably just popped into my mind in the middle of the night. Words are inadequate to describe how grateful I am for the continuous support. I would bake everyone a virtual cookie, but my culinary skillz are about as good as a tentacle monster's… x.x'

So instead, I shall just update another chapter. :D

**3**

* * *

Grimmjow didn't remember the last time he was this angry.

His round luminescent cerulean orbs only blinked, but inside, he was absolutely _seething_. He believed he had reached a new level of angry. This boiling emotion within him screamed _livid_, _incensed_, and _enraged_. He was thoroughly beside himself. All his previous morals were flushed down the drain right before his eyes. Perhaps it was the fact that he was physically soclose to the orange-haired Shinigami, never having his nose so reeking with the smell of the teen. Perhaps it was the fact that Ichigo's face was softer than usual, for the first time gazing down at him without a fierce scowl. Or perhaps it was the fact that his sorry ass was just saved by his arch-nemesis. Whatever happened to Grimmjow the Independent? Whatever happened to Grimmjow the Prideful? And certainly whatever the hell happened to Grimmjow the Self-Sufficient? Now he was robbed of an honorable death fighting to the last.

He watched closely as Ichigo tilted his head a little, the scowl returning as he examined his feline form. Grimmjow didn't care anymore. He stretched back his lips, bared his twin canines, and gave a spiteful bite right below the collarbone. Judging from the smell, he was sure a droplet of blood had leaked out from the force.

The reaction was instantaneous.

"Gah! What the hell?!" Ichigo reared back in shock, flinging Grimmjow away from himself. "What the hell was that for, you ungrateful cat?!" Much to Grimmjow's sadistic delight, the scowl was firmly planted on Ichigo's face, dark brown eyes glaring down at his form on the sidewalk. Grimmjow had forgotten he had lost the ability to speak, and he opened his jaw to retort, but somebody beat him to it.

"Ichigo! ICHIGO!" The clacking of fast-paced footsteps approached them, and the redhead turned towards the voice calling his name, before a small fist collided against the side of his skull. A dull _whack_ echoed down the street, and Ichigo found himself reeling back a second time, nursing another injury to his body. When he had regained his senses, he looked down incredulously at his attacker.

Kuchiki Rukia glared up at him with an unusual passion in her large dark eyes. A warm breeze fluttered by, ruffling the folds of her white summer dress. She raised one index finger, pointing it centimeters away from Ichigo's nose in a dramatic display. Her impossibly large eyes widened even further, her mouth firmly set in a stern line. "Ichigo! How dare you manhandle such an adorable creature!" The fiery passion in her eyes increased, and she swiftly turned on her heels, crouching down towards Grimmjow.

Ichigo was speechless. Did Rukia suddenly go blind? Hadn't she seen him heroically save the cat from impending doom just a few minutes ago? "Me?! Manhandle?! I just saved that cat from becoming a Hollow's snack, and it bit me! And now you're telling me that I was the one who was- … Hey Rukia, what are you doing?" The redhead cut himself off, staring in wonderment at his Shinigami friend. Rukia had kneeled so she was almost eye-level with Grimmjow, one hand scratching underneath the cat's chin while the other hand was rubbing a spot right between the twitching ears.

Surprisingly, Grimmjow learned another important concept facing his enemies. He had initially feared that the female Shinigami – who looked awfully familiar, perhaps he had fought her before? – would be able to sense his reiatsu and conclude that he wasn't an ordinary house cat as he seemed. But she did nothing of the kind; instead, she only knelt down and began rubbing between his ears. A pleasurable, relaxing sensation tingled down his entire body and he couldn't help a purr slipping from his mouth. Something sparkled within the Shinigami's large eyes, and she raised another hand to scratch under his chin as well, earning her another contented purr. Grimmjow couldn't believe the noises he was making, but he'd be damned if he didn't admit the girl's fingers were working magic on him. It was like receiving an immensely satisfying massage. His muscles were almost forced to relax.

Ichigo raised an orange brow at the scene. He supposed Rukia always had a special place for small furry animals within her heart, if her drawings were anything to go by. It didn't stop him from still feeling a little sore at the fact that the cat had attacked _him_ when he was the one who had saved it. Speaking of which, Ichigo couldn't fathom why a Hollow would want to attack an animal in the first place. Granted his reiatsu detection wasn't one of his strengths, but a Hollow usually preyed upon human plus spirits. He could be considered an expert in the field of human plus spirits after all, so the situation before him didn't make the least bit of sense. "Hey, Rukia… How often are there Hollow attacks on animals?"

The question seemed to have taken Rukia by surprise. Her back suddenly straightened and a frown marred her pale features, as if she hadn't thought about the strangeness of their current situation. "Hmm… It _is_ rather strange now that I think about it. Hollow attacks on anything other than plus spirits are extremely rare. Animals simply don't have the amount of reiatsu that would normally attract Hollows. When they die, they almost always directly go to Soul Society and don't linger."

Ichigo frowned, taking in Rukia's information. "So what do we do with it? It's obviously still alive, so we can't perform a soul burial…"

At this, Rukia suddenly rounded on him, eyes flashing. "It's a _he_." She managed a half-hearted glare, mouth pouting a little. She returned her attention to the cat. "He doesn't have a collar, so I don't think he belongs to anybody in particular. As for his reiatsu, it's fluctuating rapidly… which is extremely abnormal for an animal."

Grimmjow huffed, not used to people talking about him as if he wasn't there. He supposed he should feel grateful that his gender was finally recognized. However, he had learned that because of his reiatsu fluctuations, he was now a target for Hollows. Had Aizen known this would occur? Suddenly, Grimmjow was hit with exactly how complicated his situation was. Not only was he virtually defenseless, but now Hollows will be after his tail. In a burst of anger, he tried summoning his reiatsu; didn't the female Shinigami say that she could sense it within him? His reiatsu was indeed different from before. When he was still an Arrancar, his reiatsu was solid and practically hummed underneath his skin, easily manipulated. It now felt almost _slippery_, escaping him when he tried concentrating on it. It frustrated him when he knew his power was still with him and so close, yet unreachable.

Ichigo's eyes were still trained on him. "Then maybe we should give him to Urahara. He can take a look at it. After all, doesn't Yoruichi also prefer a cat's form?"

Rukia frowned at the idea. "Yes, but that's because she's a Shinigami and has mastered the transformation technique. This one's only an animal and his unstable reiatsu occurs subconsciously." She gave one last pat behind Grimmjow's ears before standing up, turning to face Ichigo. "Besides… I… well… I kinda want to keep him…"

"Are you serious?!" Ichigo's eyes widened in disbelief at Rukia's words. "Where is he going to stay? My house?! I don't think I can afford to take care of a pet when I have full Shinigami duty!" He began rubbing below his collarbone, where Grimmjow had bitten him. "Besides, he's not exactly friendly… and ungrateful too! We should just dump him off at Urahara's…" He eyed Grimmjow with outright distaste.

Rukia pouted again, her eyes enlargening with an almost pleading look. "But Ichigo! Hollow's are after him! You're a Shinigami! You can make sure he's not going to be hurt by taking him in! It works perfectly!" She crossed her arms below her chest in an unsatisfied way. "Besides, you'll get more Hollow action since they're attracted to him."

Ichigo still looked doubtful. He knew Rukia's obsession with small furry animals, but taking care of a pet was very new to him. He'd never had one before and he'd heard stories of how cats would scratch the furniture and shed fur all over the house. Or maybe that was a dog? If he did take the cat in, he'd have to buy a litter box and start adding cat food to his shopping list, not to mention checking him out for any diseases. The cat meant nothing but more chores and responsibility on his part. If you ask him, school and Shinigami duty was already more than enough responsibilities for a fifteen-year-old like himself. And he also didn't know how his family would take the sudden news. However, Rukia did have a point on how there would be more Hollows to fight if he kept the cat.

"Rukia… I don't know…" He looked down at the cat skeptically. "Does he even want to stay with us?"

Grimmjow hadn't even thought of that question yet. Did he want to stay with his arch-nemesis and a Shinigami? Back in Las Noches, he would have laughed at the mere ridiculous idea and then promptly killed the smart bastard who suggested it. But now, the situation had changed. He could no longer deny that he couldn't control his powers and would have been rotting in a Hollow's stomach by now if it weren't for his enemy's timely intrusion. For once, Grimmjow decided to use his brains and weigh his options. The two Shinigami before him knew nothing about his transformation and his identity, and it was extremely unlikely that they would anytime soon. He stood no chance against any type of Hollow in his current form and as the female Shinigami pointed out, he would be protected if he stayed with them. He would at least have a roof over his head and be relatively safe. Grimmjow laughed at the irony; it was almost like back in Las Noches: a roof over his head, relatively safe, and even a master to answer to. If it meant keeping his life until Aizen collected him back, perhaps he could stand it for his own sake. Besides, he knew from his fights with the orange-haired Shinigami that he contained a massive amount of reiatsu that affected his surroundings. If he stayed near him, there was a chance that his reiatsu could stabilize and be accessible. Not like he could do anything about it if the two Shinigamis decided to keep him anyway.

"Well… he's not running away, is he?" Rukia gestured to Grimmjow with one hand. "Just because he doesn't like you doesn't mean he doesn't like _me_…" Without waiting for further argument from Ichigo, she knelt down again and scooped up Grimmjow into her arms. Finally, she could experience having a pet. Animals besides Hell butterflies were rare in Seireitei, and her nii-sama would never have allowed an animal roaming inside their home. She turned on her heels, eager to arrive back at the Kurosaki residence. She was sure that with her charms, it would be easy to convince Ichigo's father to allow her to keep the cat.

Ichigo muttered something incomprehensible under his breath; something told him the situation wasn't as easy as Rukia made it to be. However, Rukia had her mind set, and was already walking away with the cat. The idea of the guilt trip he would undoubtedly feel if he were to refuse her didn't sound very appealing. Ichigo sighed, giving in to his friend. He quickened his steps to catch up to Rukia, feeling the warm late afternoon sun suddenly heating his back.

"So… what are we naming him?" Rukia had a content smile adorning her small face. She started stroking the cat again as she walked, earning her more purrs. "It needs a nice name since it's so special…" She beamed down at the bundle of fur nestled within her arms.

Name? Ichigo suddenly had a flashback of the time when they had found the stuffed lion plushie as a body for Kon. He had been the one to name the mod soul at the time as well. At least the cat wouldn't fight him as hard as Kon did if he didn't like its name. The redhead glanced around, hoping something name-worthy would pop into his mind. The houses of Karakura Town were all in neat rows and were similar on the outside, except for the front lawns. Walking down the street, Ichigo noticed the different flowers growing in the grass. Spring was well under way, and the flowers were almost in full bloom, their multi-colored petals swaying in the gentle breezes and catching passerby's attention. The duo was close to Inoue Orihime's empty apartment and as Ichigo passed by solemnly, he spotted a pot of brightly colored hollyhocks out on her windowsill. It was a miracle the flower had survived without her care, relying only on the rain and sun for sustenance.

He turned his head to regard the cat. To his surprise, it was watching him with intense cerulean orbs. The mild glare sent a strange tingle down his spine, the shade of eyes reminding him of something else. The redhead's face suddenly turned contemplative as an unbidden image of Grimmjow materialized within his mind. Yes, those deep cerulean eyes reminded him very much of his rival. They were the same exact shade, and Grimmjow somehow always reminded him of a feline. The Espada's released form didn't help to lessen the image. Even the cat's fur held a blue tint that was unique among cats; the color could be vaguely connected to the Espada's unique hair. The only thing missing was Grimmjow's jawbone, calling to attention his wide mouth. Ichigo scoffed, not even when his rival was safely tucked in Las Noches could he leave him alone. Somehow, the bright colors of the hollyhocks returned to Ichigo's mind.

"Aoi."

It was feminine, but strong. Even a bit forward and boisterous if he bothered to analyze it enough. Just like Grimmjow. Rukia, however, rounded on him again. "Didn't you hear me when I said it was a _he_?! Aoi is a girl's name!"

Ichigo shrugged. It wasn't the first time he had given an uncool name to someone. His mind briefly flickered back to Kon. "Hey… you asked me. Can't take it back now…"

Rukia rolled her eyes. _So that's how Ichigo wants to play it, huh?_ An unfitting name in exchange for letting her keep the cat. She supposed it was only fair; Aoi was a nice _girl's_ name anyway. "Fine. Aoi-chan it is!"

In all honesty, Ichigo was surprised at the lack of more resistance from Rukia. But he let it go, since more argument would only leave him a headache. They were close to his home and Ichigo started to run over in his mind excuses he could tell to his dad for the unexpected appearance of a cat. Though he had no doubt Rukia's charm would win him over in the end. Really, how did he agree with this mess in the first place? The rest of the walk home was silent, but Ichigo couldn't shrug off a feeling that a storm was coming. And for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why it had anything to do with the cat.

* * *

A/N: Yes, "it's feminine, but strong" definitely came from Dane Cook. XD Kudos to anyone who noticed that beforehand. I really couldn't help myself.

Well… I suppose with this chapter, though lacking action, means that the plot is under way. Basically, this whole fic will be composed of nasty surprises, unexpected plot twists, and just plain madness in general. Oh, and with a dash of yaoi, of course. :D


	4. Four

Felis Domesticus

A/N: :DDDDDD There is much rejoiceth for me on behalf of this fic. Please thank the following lovely people…

Zyu the Last

Conjure Lass

RazorCardz01

… because they are willing to help me with future ideas and become a better writer out of the kindness of their hearts. Their efforts truly make me want to bawl like a baby whenever I try to express my gratitude. They also have wonderful fics out as well, so check them out!

**4**

* * *

The first night was hectic, not that Ichigo expected anything less.

However, much to his relief, his family's reaction was less dramatic that what he had imagined. Now that he thought about it, he was glad that all his shirts had a high collar. His father would undoubtedly notice any strange marks on his only son, and it wouldn't do to have teeth imprints on his skin showing. Even worse, his father could mistake it for a hickey and who knew what his crazy father would go from there. It was still embarrassing to have Rukia witness one of his father's breakdowns in front of a poster of his deceased mother. Ichigo refused to ponder any further and promptly rang the doorbell.

Yuzu was Yuzu, after all. His youngest sister wasted no time in cooing and squealing over the bundle of fur tucked within Rukia's arms. Like the female Shinigami, Yuzu also had a fixation with small furry animals, going so far as to put herself in danger to ensure their safety. No animal walked away from Yuzu cold, starving, or injured. Something sparkled within her soft brown eyes, uncannily similar to Rukia's. Ichigo swore he could see the two of them starting a fan club, Grimmjow's icy death glare not deterring them in the slightest.

Karin was Karin, after all. The other female of the Kurosaki residence had barely raised her head above a sports magazine propped open on the dinner table. She didn't think a pet would drastically change family dynamics, so it didn't have much of an affect on her. As long as she didn't end up cleaning the litter box, of course. Judging from the look on her older brother's face, she had a sneaking suspicion this was all his dark-haired friend's doing. Her Ichi-nii would never randomly bring in a small furry animal when he had said he was going out to take a stroll, and without advanced warning no less. Karin rolled her eyes at her twin's antics, already feeling a slight headache beginning to pound in the back of her skull. She shrugged off a slight twinge of foreboding at the bottom of her gut; the cat _did_ have a wonderful death glare.

Isshin was Isshin, after all. The situation was rather unexpected for the man of the family, Isshin; so his only son had a soft spot within him all along. Isshin was secretly glad; the boy's tough exterior scared away potential girlfriends. He recalled having read somewhere that girls in this day and age liked boys who had a soft spot for animals. Of course, Ichigo didn't show this quality: his posture was apathetic as usual, though his face looked like he was trying to tell a lie. As if he was going to believe a single word from his son's mouth. However, his cute girlfriend was another matter. Isshin blinked down at Rukia's unnaturally wide eyes, the girl already beginning to tear up as she began her sob story excuse for the appearance of the animal in her arms. Isshin's heart melted at the sight; her words completely blocked out from his mind. Though he would have to add several more items onto the shopping list, he didn't mind taking in a pet. Perhaps the presence of a cat would liven up the household. He didn't see any harm in bringing up the animal in the family.

However, he did notice the injury on the animal. His trained medical eye had almost immediately spotted the crusty matted fur on its hind leg, tinged with a subtle red hue. In a flash, he had scooped up the animal out of Rukia's arms and set it down gently on the nearest flat surface. If the cat was indeed a stray, it had to be checked for internal diseases as well. Granted veterinarian work wasn't his specialty, but the gash should be easy enough to fix and bandage. His brows immediately furrowed upon closer inspection of the cut. Centuries of Shinigami duty had trained him to spot Hollow attacks in his sleep. There was no doubt that the cat sported a wound from a Hollow. Isshin tried as discreetly as possible to glance at both his son and Rukia. Was it only coincidence that they managed to pick up a cat injured by a Hollow, or was there something more to this whole scene? The twinge of foreboding at the bottom of his gut told him it was the latter. The animal's reiatsu was also fluctuating too much for his liking, and he promised himself to keep a close eye on the cat.

No sooner had he returned the cat to Rukia's waiting arms did she hurried up the stairs, towing a reluctant Ichigo. "Shouldn't we leave it downstairs?" The redhead complained when they reached his bedroom. "Don't cats shed or something? I don't want to find fur all over my room."

Rukia mustered another half-hearted glare. It was rather uncharacteristic of Ichigo to complain so much in one day. After all, it was just a small instinctual bite. It wasn't as if Ichigo was going to take care of Aoi-chan all by himself. Truth be told, she didn't trust Ichigo with such an adorable creature. Knowing him, Aoi would be neglected and most likely abused. She couldn't resist sticking out her tongue childishly at her friend. Ichigo was being unreasonable and ruining her mood. She couldn't wait to show Aoi off to the rest of her Shinigami friends, sure that Matsumoto Rangiku would fawn over him as well.

Ichigo decided to ignore the juvenile display, opting to cross his arms under his chest and scowling skeptically at the feline. There was a slight twinge of foreboding at the bottom of his gut, and he ran through what Rukia had said back out on the street. "I still think we should at least have Urahara take a quick look at him. There's just this feeling I have… Just in case this has any remote connection to Aizen."

Rukia sighed, exasperated. She should have known Ichigo wouldn't let the matter go so easily. "Ichigo… not everything rare that occurs is connected to him. You saw the Hollow that was after Aoi. If Aizen wanted him, he wouldn't have put him in such danger." Her face suddenly softened and she stepped closer to the teen, placing a reassuring hand on his forearm. "I really don't think this has anything to do with Aizen's plans or Inoue…"

Ichigo forced himself to look into his friend's eyes at the mention of Orihime. The onyx depths held nothing but openness and warmth, but also silently willing him to let it go. Maybe he really was just overreacting. Maybe he really was just being irrational. Maybe he really just needed to forgive the cat for something that was not his fault. He looked away again, an action that told Rukia she had had won for now. Rukia pursed her lips, turning her attention back to the cat. "But if it makes you feel better, we can make a quick trip to Urahara's tomorrow. Just so you can calm down. Perhaps Yoruichi can even give us some pet care tips…" She broke out into giggles at the idea, and even Ichigo's scowl softened at that.

He was about to express his gratitude to the female Shinigami when they heard the unmistakable sound of his father calling them down for dinner. The duo raced down the stairs, the scent of Yuzu's homemade dinner taunting them along the way, and with his dark-furred pet trailing after them. Setting foot inside the dining room, Ichigo couldn't help but notice something was different. The familiar sight of his youngest sister setting the table was missing, and the rest of his family was lounging around the kitchen. "Where's Yuzu?" He asked, noting the cooked food and the missing presence of his sister

Isshin shot his son a confused expression. "You mean… she's not upstairs?"

"No!" Ichigo groaned, count on his father to keep track of his own children. No wonder his father was never worried when he ran off on Shinigami duties. "She was supposed to be downstairs!"

Karin actually lifted her head from the magazine. "Great. She ran off right when we're about to have dinner." She shot Isshin a flat look. "And our dear old man didn't even notice her leave."

Isshin sputtered, trying in vain to defend himself. Ichigo mentally cursed, immediately thumbing through the phone book of people in the neighborhood. It was unlike her to leave so suddenly, and with the sun starting to slip below the horizon, the streets could be dangerous for a small girl like herself. Surprisingly, none of the neighbors had caught a glimpse of her either. After a few more calls, Ichigo finally put down the phone book and the phone, groaning loudly. Ichigo couldn't believe his day: first the cat and now his sister had apparently vanished into thin air. He waited by the window for ten more minutes, but when there was still no sign of her, he finally reached for the phone to dial for the police.

Just as he pressed the first number, the front door creaked open. Ichigo slammed down the phone and turned his attention immediately to the doorway. There, in all her adorable glory, stood Yuzu with an armful of shopping bags. She took a wobbly step into the house, and Ichigo stared in mild shock as two more bag boys followed after her, their arms also full of plastic bags. They set down their loads, leaving immediately afterward, but not before giving everyone present a bewildered glance. The entire house was silent, still deciding whether to be relieved or confused. Yuzu dropped her bags with a loud thump, revealing her red and slightly upset face. "Sorry everyone, but I went to the store to buy some cat food since it was dinnertime. But… but I've never bought cat food before and I couldn't decide what kind to buy. So I… I bought every brand…" Her large eyes glanced around the kitchen, capturing her family's incredulous expressions. "How come no one's started eating yet?"

Isshin face-faulted, moaning something about bills. Karin smacked a hand to her forehead. Ichigo tried to suppress an urge to sigh. Rukia giggled and walked over to the girl, reaching down for a bag of cat food. "It's alright, Yuzu. I'm sure Aoi-chan will appreciate your efforts."

Yuzu beamed brightly, reaching into another plastic bag to pull out a small bowl. She reached for a marker, neatly writing 'Aoi-chan' on the side. Rukia then ripped open a bag and poured a generous amount of biscuit-shaped cat food into the bowl. She straightened up, beckoning to the pet not three feet away. "Come here, Aoi-chan! I'm sure you're hungry!"

Grimmjow wanted to bite off the girl's hand.

It was indescribably _demeaning_ to have to walk on all fours and eat from a _bowl_. What made him even more livid was the fact that everyone stared down at him like it was the most normal thing for him to do. Another bowl was placed next to the food, filled to the brim with water. He was _supposed to_ walk over on all fours. He was _supposed to_ lower his head. He was _supposed to_ eat from a bowl with his mouth and lap at the water like a common house cat. Which he essentially was. Cerulean orbs narrowed to slits and he pounced onto the female Shinigami, claws outstretched. What did she take the fearsome Sexta Espada for, a pet?!

The look on her face gave Grimmjow satisfaction enough. Rukia winced as eight sharp claws dug into her upper thighs, and she frantically tried to push him off as gently as she could. "Aoi! Stop it! What's gotten into you?!" Grimmjow was about to use his canines on the girl as well, but he never got the chance to as a pair of strong hands latched around his middle from behind and forcibly pulled him off the startled girl.

"I swear you're bipolar, Aoi… Now stop attacking anyone who shows you an ounce of kindness and eat!" Grimmjow snarled at the voice, turning his head backwards to hiss into the face of his rival. He blatantly refused; his pride would never allow him to stoop so low and eat like an animal. Besides, he was a Hollow and didn't need to eat anything other than souls. Feeding him biscuit-shaped cat food was like feeding carnivores vegetables. No sooner had Ichigo set him down again did he start another tantrum. He tried snapping at Ichigo's hands, anything to wipe that annoyed look off the redhead's face. He raised one paw to swipe at Ichigo's arms, but froze as he suddenly experienced something he thought he had long forgotten.

His stomach had made an unmistakable growling noise.

* * *

Ichigo had never sighed in exasperation so many times in one day. Today was definitely not his day, and he thought sullenly of his Shinigami friend who was the one responsible for pulling him in to all this mess in the first place. He was currently sitting on the edge of his bed, trying to rub away a fierce headache. His trademark scowl was firmly fixed on his face deeper than ever, and he spared a glance at the clock on his desk. Eleven thirty p.m. glared back at him in neon red, reminding him that he still needed to attend school early the next morning. Just then, Rukia decided to walk into his room, already dressed in his sister's pajamas and looking just slightly less frazzled than he was.

Frankly, he had no idea how he had lasted until bedtime. He didn't know how he could continue keeping the cat if only one day could wear him out so much. The cat proved to be more than a handful, putting up unnecessary fights and acting plain spiteful for no apparent reason. Ichigo secretly wished he could have arrived too late and let the animal be eaten. Who knew how much trouble it would save him? Of course, Rukia would never admit to anything, still insisting on being optimistic. Couldn't she see the cat was nothing but a demon incarnate?

Ichigo groaned, the whole night had been one large blur imprinted on his memory. The cat was simply impossible. Somehow, they had gotten through dinner and he even took a quick shower. He feared that he was beginning to become extremely paranoid, never knowing when the damn cat will pounce on him and start trying to scratch his face off. The animal was harmless enough, but it was annoying trying to fend him off and calm him down, which took quite an amount of energy to accomplish. Somehow, he found himself hours later sitting in his room, facing the source of his headache.

Grimmjow didn't care. If his self-proclaimed owners had expected a meek and docile house pet, they were sorely mistaken. Somebody else besides himself needed to experience a drastic change as well, and his rival was the perfect candidate. It was a twisted sort of vengeance in a way, trying to make others feel like him. Innocent or not. Seeing the frustrated and angry face of Ichigo always lightened his mood, and he never passed up an opportunity to rile the teen. He supposed he could be considered a sadist, but it was all the more fun for him. After hours of wearing Ichigo thin, he finally found himself on the redhead's bedroom floor, glaring up at an exhausted face. Serves the bastard right for never dying when Grimmjow wanted him to.

"What are you starin' at?" Ichigo spat rudely. The cat resembled more and more like his rival, Grimmjow. Those electric blue eyes bore into his own dark brown, filled with the same defiance and insanity. Why the Fates had decided to give him a constant reminder of the Arrancar escaped him. The personality was also uncannily similar, always thinking of attacking and never giving up. He filed away a mental note to beat Grimmjow's ass extra hard next time they met; it was the best way to unleash all his pent-up frustrations.

When the cat only continued to glare at him, Ichigo continued. "You can either go sleep in the bathroom on the tiles, or if you prefer something softer, you can go into the hallway and sleep on the carpet."

"Ichigo!" To his expectation, Rukia admonished him from the closet. She had already crawled in and slipped underneath the covers, eager to catch some rest before school in the morning. It had been a _long_ day. She turned her attention to the cat on the floor, feeling sorry for the poor way her stubborn friend was treating him. He was simply too adorable to be neglected and spoken to in a harsh tone. She grinned wide, pulling back the covers. "Come here, Aoi-chan! You can sleep with me since Ichigo is being a big meanie." She loved cuddling with soft furry things.

Grimmjow would rather sleep outside in a ditch, exposed to the four winds.

He ignored the fawning female, opting to continue his staring contest with Ichigo. In fact, his rival's bed looked rather inviting. It was smaller than his own back in Las Noches, but it looked just as comfortable. Why should he be sleeping on a floor when a bed was right in front of him? He was not some subservient little lapdog that was underneath a mere human. Just the idea boiled his blood, and he leapt up onto Ichigo, scratching and trying to bite the teen's torso in his fit of rage.

"Not again!" Within seconds, Ichigo had the cat by the front legs, dangling him at arms length. Grimmjow continued to hiss and snarl, his eyes reflecting pure hate. Ichigo was about to give up and lock the rabid animal inside the bathroom, when his eyes caught sight of the bandage still wrapped around Grimmjow's hind leg. He hadn't noticed anything until then, but the stitches must have reopened and fresh blood was beginning to stain the white of the wrapping. Ichigo sighed yet again, forcing his face to smoothen a little. "Aoi… just stop it…"

He placed Grimmjow back on the floor, walking to the bathroom across the hall to retrieve a roll of bandages. When he returned, he picked up the cat and set him on his bed, using one hand to keep him in place. As quickly as he could, he changed the soiled cloth, mindful of Grimmjow's attempts to bite his hand. Years from helping his father in the clinic had taught him basic first-aid. Tying up the ends firmly, he straightened up, looking back into his pet's face. "Now don't move too much and it'll heal faster."

Whatever else he had planned on saying died in his throat when his dark brown eyes met cerulean blue. The cat's bright eyes held a peculiar emotion. It had stopped struggling and acting aggressive, only to stare at him with something different within those eyes. It was now guarded, closely scrutinizing him without the usual malice. Grimmjow blinked once, before rolling back onto his feet and padded over to the other edge of the bed, on the far side of the pillow. Without further warning, he plopped down on the mattress, wrapping his furry tail around himself. His eyes returned to Ichigo's, silently daring him to object to his behavior.

Ichigo groaned again, running a hand through his orange hair and down his face. He didn't like the fact that some animal off the street decided to settle down on _his_ clean bed, but his brain complained that it was too tired to argue further. He had school bright and early the next morning and he liked to not have the teacher yell at him for sleeping during class. In response, he directed a sharp glare to his pet. "Fine. But if you scratch, bite, or do anything funny during the night, I'll throw you out the window." Stifling a yawn coming up, he crawled under the covers, immediately turning so he faced away from the cat, scooting as close to the edge as possible.

Grimmjow lay there in his corner for a long time. His eyes never left Ichigo's figure stretched out on the other side. Moonlight spilled onto the bed from the indrawn window, bathing the teen in a white glow. His vision had long adjusted to the darkness, and he could clearly see Ichigo's neck and mop of orange hair peaking out past the covers. It would be so _easy_ to seriously harm the boy in this moment of vulnerability. His mind reeled from the assortment of possibilities, but then scoffed at each and every one of them when he deemed them all too cowardly. His pride would never allow him to stab anyone in the back when they weren't looking. It would cheapen his power and make him look weak.

He didn't know how long he laid there, occasionally flicking the end of his tail. The house was completely silent. He supposed it had been quite some time because at one point, Ichigo rolled over, now facing him. The redhead was sound asleep, one hand grasping his pillow and the scowl plastered firmly on his face. Grimmjow decided he didn't look too different even while asleep, looking as though he was battling his demons in the dream world instead. However, his breathing was too calm and his fiery gaze was missing. Grimmjow sight traveled across from Ichigo's face to his hand. It was new to see that hand clutching onto anything but a sword. It looked out of place, clutching a pillow like an actual fifteen-year-old, not a boy who was forced to grow up too fast. Everything from the smooth plane of the back to the long fingers seemed so different without his sword. Is this what Ichigo would look like if he had never acquired Shinigami powers? Just an ordinary human schoolboy?

Grimmjow finally closed his eyes, not because he was tired, but because the sleeping figure of his rival ruined his image.

* * *

A/N: Oh! And don't forget dear Kaihyou-chan, because she is one wicked mind reader. Fear her super-human abilities! x.X'


	5. Five

Felis Domesticus

A/N: I actually have legit excuses. But who wants to hear an author ramble about that? Please carry on as if the unexpected and unannounced two month-long hiatus never happened…

Which, of course, it didn't. _Obviously._

**5**

* * *

"Ichi-nii… Ichi-nii…"

The voice sounded distant. It also sounded extremely familiar, the pitch distinctly that of a small girl's. The tone was urgent, as if the caller had something important to say. However, his mind protested awakening, insisting on a little more sleep. The voice continued despite his unwillingness to respond. Then he felt a small hand rest on his arm, beginning to shake back and forth. _Karin? No, too soft and gentle. Yuzu? … Yuzu!_

Suddenly, he found that he couldn't breathe.

His mind immediately wrenched itself out of the semi-conscious state, fueled by his rising panic. Something heavy and thick was blocking his airway, resting directly on top his face. Something lumpy… something furry… something _alive_… and denying him oxygen. With a muffled gurgle, which only resulted in a mouthful of fur, Ichigo grabbed the offending animal off his face and tried to fling it across the room. He immediately bolted up in bed, gasping for breath and clutching at his chest. He tried to give his best early morning glare to the cat, but was countered by a hiss and a snarl from the creature.

Before he could start spewing some choice words at the feline, his mind completely awake now, his attention was diverted to the presence beside him. He turned to see his youngest sister at his bedside, an urgent look adorning her small face. "Ichi-nii! If you don't get up now, you'll be late for school!"

Ichigo swung his head around to glance at his clock, confirming Yuzu's words. He was about to shout another choice word when Rukia stepped inside the bedroom, already wearing her school uniform. "Eh? Ichigo! You still haven't gotten up yet? We'll be late!"

The redhead could feel a vein beginning to twitch on his temple; his efforts to control it were futile. He rounded on Rukia, simultaneously trying to push past Yuzu and get ready for school. "Your stinkin' cat tried to suffocate me in my sleep! He's nothing but a little demon!"

Rukia rolled her eyes, half expecting her friend's dramatic reactions. "Stop exaggerating and acting like a woman. Aoi-chan was just trying to be friendly!"

Knowing he had little time to argue, Ichigo settled with grumbling incoherently under his breath. He dressed and washed up in almost record time, then scrambled after Rukia downstairs to stuff as much breakfast as he could down his throat. He berated himself internally for the mess-up; Kurosaki Ichigo being late for school was almost unheard of. He scowled deeply, deciding to blame the demonic furball of a cat for his rare tardiness. Leaping up from the breakfast table, he was right at the front door when he noticed Rukia holding back.

"So, we're just going to leave him home?" The female Shinigami sported a pout on her face. Reluctance was evident within her large eyes as she stared down at her feet.

Ichigo was quite beside himself. He stared incredulously at his dark-haired friend, his ears not believing what he had just heard. "Of course we're just going to leave him here! That's how it's supposed to be! You want to take him with us to school?!" Not for the first time, the thought of Rukia having some serious issues popped inside Ichigo's head. They were running late as it is!

"Well… n-no…" Rukia sputtered, trying in vain to defend herself.

Ichigo gave a frustrated groan, seized his friend's arm, and dragged her behind him out the front door.

* * *

They made it just in time.

The duo reached their seats as the teacher began roll call. Sitting in the classroom for the first few minutes of class, Ichigo couldn't help but think that arriving at the last minute had its merits. There was no running into Asano Keigo trying to inappropriately touch him. (Honestly, that man just couldn't get a clue.) There was no passing by Arisawa Tatsuki and her group of girls looking like she still wanted to smash his face in. There was no bumping into Ishida Uryuu and inevitably exchanging petty insults. Ichigo sighed, how could he just now realize that all the small things in his life had become a comfort? Something constant and able to rely on in his chaotic life.

He allowed his eyes to wander around the classroom, picking out the select people who had grown close to him. Who had fought alongside him. Of course, there was Rukia sitting right next to him in an unusually bouncy mood. There was Sado Yasutora, his large presence that was always reassuring to Ichigo. Lastly, there was Ishida, the Quincy's behavior just arrogant enough to annoy Ichigo to no end. But relieving the memories of his friends brought a sudden and quick spark of pain within his heart. One of them was missing. One that had brought a unique, cheerful, and invaluable personality into their group. Now she was gone, and Ichigo couldn't help but miss the warm 'Good morning, Kurosaki-kun!' that greeted him every day without fail. Pulling himself out of his morose reverie, Ichigo let his eyes wander back to the Quincy, noticing that Ishida was raising an eyebrow in Rukia's direction.

"Is something the matter, Kuchiki-san?" Ishida finally voiced aloud. "You seem rather… excited."

In response, the female Shinigami rotated her head around so fast it was a wonder she didn't get whiplash. Her large eyes sparkled with much glee, as if she was just waiting for someone to ask. "Ichigo and I got a pet!" She burst out loudly to everyone within her vicinity.

Upon hearing the announcement, Ishida couldn't contain an amused snort. "Didn't know Kurosaki was the pet type…"

By now, the ticking vein from earlier was back with a vengeance on Ichigo's temple. His face had taken on a crimson shade, and his brown eyes shot flames at the Quincy. "It wasn't my idea! We found it on the street and I was all for letting it go, but then Rukia had to act the saint and take it in! The thing even bit me!" The redhead all but ranted in fury. In his fit, he hooked two fingers over the collar of his school uniform and tugged it down to reveal the bite mark, the skin still tinged a slight pinkish-red around the wounds.

"Kurosaki-kun!" An indignant shout from the front of the classroom broke the conversation. Ichigo quickly glanced up, seeing his teacher give him a strict look. "Please refrain from indecent exposure and pay attention to my class!"

The classroom's explosion of laughter was almost drowned out by a wail from Keigo. "Ichigo! You got yourself a girlfriend and didn't tell me?! You traitor! I thought we were best friends!" He was about to bawl on further, but didn't get the chance to as a well-aimed pencil case collided with his skull, sending him toppling off his seat in a dazed heap.

Ishida smirked and pushed his glasses higher up his nose with one finger, staring at an enraged Ichigo, a pencil case missing from on top his friend's desk. "Tch. Admit it, Kurosaki. You're getting soft from hanging around women all day." He punctuated his statement by pointedly averting his gaze to Rukia.

If it was possible, Ichigo's face became even redder. Steam all but blew out from his ears as he focused all his anger at the smirking Quincy. "Who are you calling soft, Ishida?! You sew and patch up girls' plushies! How many guys these days can _sew_ for god sa-…?!"

"Kurosaki-kun!" Once again, Ichigo was interrupted by the same indignant shout from the front of the classroom. "For the last time, stop yelling during class and pay attention!"

Ichigo swiveled around in his seat, facing the front. He made himself a mental note to give the Quincy a punch in the face when the next opportunity came.

The class quickly became extremely boring after the brief clash with Ishida at the beginning. Ichigo tried to force himself to concentrate on the quick secession of numbers and letters the teacher was scribbling on the blackboard. He thought he heard something about an upcoming quiz on the topic, but the teacher's droning voice had quickly become a dull buzzing noise to his ears. It didn't help that his eyes were starting to hurt from the lack of sleep the previous night and when he looked down at the notebook on his desk, he was dismayed to see notes that looked more like chicken scratchings in a barnyard. Yes, he definitely thought he heard something about an upcoming quiz.

The redhead groaned in frustration. _Stupid cat…_ It was all the cat's fault. He knew he should've just tossed the infernal thing out the damn window when Rukia wasn't looking. Who knew it would be such a pain to care for?

Rubbing furiously at his weary eyes, he glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. Barely an hour had passed since the beginning of school and Ichigo already wanted to just go back home and collapse on top his bed. Scowling deeply, he shifted his attention to the open window right beside him, gazing out at the beautiful morning sky. Abandoning all futile attention to the lecture, he let his eyes wander across the Karakura Town skyline, picking out familiar buildings. His eyes traveled even lower, sweeping across the empty school courtyard. He could also see the track field and beyond that, a low wall that separated the high school from the street.

He was about to shift his attention elsewhere when he suddenly spotted some commotion near the wall. The commotion became louder and louder until Ichigo realized the sound to be the screaming and laughter of small children. Then, a streaking black blur shot across the empty courtyard, the color contrasting sharply against the dull cement background. A gang of small children chased after the black blur, creating a general racket that pierced through the quiet morning air.

Ichigo couldn't help but lean over further in his seat, mildly curious at the scene. The children didn't show any signs of stopping, continuing to chase the small blur around and around the courtyard and field. The redhead wondered what could be interesting enough to make children chase after it endlessly. It couldn't be a simple ball; the blur was very much a live thing. It was too large to be a rabbit, but too small to be a dog. In fact, it was just the right size to be a cat. Ichigo's eyes were trained on the thing; it was looking increasingly familiar by the second. Just then, a ray of sunlight peeked out from behind a cloud, casting the entire courtyard in a bright glow. The sunlight struck the racing animal, and Ichigo's eyes widened as patches of dark blue flashed from the black fur. Realization hit him harder than the pencil case he threw at Keigo's head.

He didn't think; he just acted. Turning once again to the front of the classroom, Ichigo shot his hand up into the air, effectively catching the teacher's attention mid-sentence.

"Yes, Kurosaki-kun?"

Ichigo blurted out the first thing that came into his mind. "My stomach doesn't feel well. Can I please be excused?"

Without even waiting for a response, he rose from his seat so fast, the chair made a loud squeaking noise as it scraped against the floor. Then, he tore out of the classroom and raced towards the exit as fast as his legs would carry him.

Rukia was startled, to say the least. The redhead had just been spacing out beside her, and the next thing she knew, he was running out of the classroom. Obviously, some kind of emergency had happened. Her first thought was a Hollow attack, but she hadn't sensed any Hollow reiatsu from anywhere close by. Besides, his Shinigami badge hadn't lit up. Then what was the problem? Her curiosity winning out in the end, she raised a hand as well. "Uh… me… me too!" She hastily blurted out. Mimicking the teen, she also dashed out the room as soon as the words left her mouth and proceeded to follow her friend's trail.

Bright sunlight filtered down from the heavens, hitting Ichigo's face and making him wince at the glare. He ran towards the courtyard directly beneath where he was sitting a few minutes ago, his insides already beginning to simmer with annoyance. Questions clouded his mind, the foremost being 'how the hell did the little furball get out of the house?!'

"Hey! You little brats! Quit chasing after my cat!" The children, seeing an angry high schooler running towards them threateningly, promptly shrieked obnoxiously and scurried off the school grounds.

Diverting his attention from the giggling horde of children, Ichigo sprinted even faster, eye on his pet which had begun to slow down upon seeing the children leave. The redhead bent down swiftly, scooping up the unsuspecting cat right into his arms. Any doubts that the animal was his beloved Aoi-chan flew out the window when it bit him on the chest again in greeting, at the exact same spot as the first bite. "Gah! You're impossible!" He ground out, trying to ignore the sting of pain and to keep the squirming animal from leaping out of his arms.

"Ichigo! ICHIGO!" The clacking of fast-paced footsteps approached them, and the redhead turned towards the voice calling his name, only to see the small figure of Rukia speeding across the courtyard. She screeched to a halt in front of the teen, looking curiously at the feline trapped within his arms. "Eh? What's Aoi-chan doing out here? How did he find us?"

Ichigo shrugged and scowled darkly. "Hell if I know. I saw a gang of children chasing after him, so I came down." He held tighter when the cat struggled again, hissing and scratching at his chest.

He glanced at Rukia, seeing a blank look across her small face. He looked back up at his classroom, noticing that they hadn't attracted any attention. At least he could get a breath of fresh air and out of that mind-numbing classroom lecture. "Come on, Rukia." He turned around swiftly, heading for the school grounds exit.

Rukia was startled again; what was her friend up to now? "Ichigo! Where are you going? Back home?" She rushed to catch up to him, then slowing down until she fell in step.

The redhead only continued on. "Well, since we're out here already, we might as well visit Urahara. No use delaying."

* * *

_Flap._

_Flap. Flap._

Urahara Kisuke was in a good mood. He was currently sprawled out on a rocking chair on the porch of his shop. In one hand, he held his signature fan enjoying the breeze against his face, and the other hand was rhythmically stroking the sleeping black cat stretched out on his lap. It was a nice spring day, the weather hinting at summer and the air blissfully quiet. He was glad he had sent Jinta and Ururu out on an errand; now he could enjoy lazing around in peace.

Yes, Urahara Kisuke was in a very good mood.

A wind casually blew past, ruffling his blond hair underneath his striped hat. It was a bit cooler than the other breezes, and Urahara suddenly frowned. The wind felt a little odd, like it was warning him that change was about to happen. He snapped his fan shut; his good mood tarnished a little. Yoruichi stirred within his lap.

Someone was coming.

Urahara heard rather than saw; it was the rhythmic tapping of footsteps on the pavement that gave it away. In fact, there were _two_ people coming. The blond lifted his head in time to see his two favorite customers casually walking toward his direction. It was not an uncommon sight: Ichigo and Rukia frequented his shop for one thing or another. _But what is this?_ Urahara mused in curiosity. An almost identical black cat was nestled within the redhead's arms; it's fur on end.

The blond sighed wistfully, knowing that his peaceful rest had come to an end. Such a pity it was so short. He quickly shooed Yoruichi off his lap, meekly apologizing when she gave him a glare before running off. He straightened his attire as much as he could, adjusted his hat, and smoothly slid open the front door of his shop. "Welcome, welcome. Anything I can do for such _lovely_ customers?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes, stepping right in. Rukia had the decency to reply in earnest. "Urahara-san! We just thought we'd stop by for you to check on something. It's really not a big deal, but Ichigo insisted."

Urahara waved his fan in the direction of the back of his shop dismissively. "Yes, yes. Just set it down on the table and I'll be right there." He slid the door closed again, something telling him there would be an interesting conversation coming up. Nothing with those two was quite boring, it seemed…

As he entered the backroom of his shop, the blond was greeted by two anxious Shinigami, an empty tabletop, and Tessai shuffling about trying to serve everyone tea and cookies. The scene looked almost normal, except Ichigo was forcefully holding down the black cat in his arms, restricting its limbs. Urahara blinked down at the animal. "I assume _that_ is what you two want me to take a look at?"

Rukia nodded, shoving a cookie into her mouth. "Ichigo's being paranoid again…" She then went on to explain their situation, about the finding of the cat, her conclusions, and finally ending with complaining about Ichigo's constant paranoia. "I'm pretty sure it's just a poor cat at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"It's just better to be safe than sorry!" Her friend obstinately argued, still restraining the squirming cat.

Urahara hmm-ed in thought. Hollow attacks on animals were almost unheard of, but not entirely impossible. The scenario in front of him was indeed a little interesting, and his curiosity was piqued. Even if the creature turned out to be just an ordinary animal, it wouldn't hurt to have an examination.

"Alright, alright. Settle down. I'll do a quick reiatsu analysis on it. That should tell us all we need to know." Urahara quickly grabbed ahold of the cat from Ichigo, mindful of its protruding claws. However, the feline only struggled even harder, hissing spitefully at the blond shop manager. "Feisty one, isn't he?" Urahara managed a weak chuckle, before disappearing out another door in a hurry.

* * *

Urahara Kisuke knew a sticky situation when he saw one.

He sighed again as his instincts proved right once more – nothing with those two really was boring. Right now, he found himself furiously trying to decide what to do with the situation before him. In truth, he had never seen anything like this in his entire life, and doubted he would ever again. Unless, of course, that thief Aizen became an even sicker bastard.

Staring back at him, with the most malicious cerulean eyes, was a cat. _No._ He corrected himself. _An Arrancar._ He at first couldn't believe the data from his reiatsu analysis, but there was no possibility for any errors during the testing. Somehow, the Arrancar had shape-shifted into a cat and its reiatsu dispersed around it, unable to be reached. Of course, he already had formulated a few theories, but each one seemed more unlikely than the one before.

His first guess was espionage. Aizen wanted an extremely discreet way of monitoring human and shinigami activities in the human world. But something of this scale was ridiculous. An animal spy had many risks and was too defenseless, which was just proven by Rukia's story. Besides, Aizen hardly needed any spies; he knew the entire mechanics of Seireitei better than the back of his hand and anything in the human world was too trivial for him.

There was also the possibility that Aizen was merely experimenting. The ex-captain had shown a high interest in transformations, tweaking around with nature until one thing was changed into another. The Arrancar before him could just be another hapless victim of Aizen's twisted experiments. However, the data showed that the creature was a powerful Arrancar: its dispersed reiatsu contained massive potential. Aizen wouldn't risk one of his precious Arrancars for such experimentation, not with the expected war looming so close on the horizon.

Maybe, everything was just one horrific accident. Urahara had considered that, but dismissed it when he reminded himself that Aizen did not take lightly to mistakes. There would be no reason for an "accident" to wander around in the human world. Aizen would have quickly disposed of the problem.

In fact, there weren't many tools in existence that had the ability to transform other things at all. Only the most prestigious and ambitious scientists of Soul Society delved into that particular field. The last known item with a transformation ability was the Hougyoku that he himself had created, but of course, it wasn't for the purpose of shape-shifting.

A light bulb suddenly flashed within Urahara's mind. While it was true he didn't develop that small orb for trivial shape-shifting, who knew what Aizen could do with it while it was in his grubby hands. By now, the little thief had probably transformed hundreds of masked Hollows and knew every little secret there was to Urahara's prized invention. There was a possibility that Aizen could have adjusted the Hougyoku to better suit his needs, even use it to shape-shift Arrancars into house pets.

Though, why he would so such a thing was a mystery to Urahara.

"If you were indeed transformed by the Hougyoku, you should still be able to understand human speech since your mind shouldn't have been tampered by it." The blond announced in a clear voice.

The malicious cerulean orbs never ceased its glare, but a very slight nod was distinguishable.

_Ah! So it was the Hougyoku!_ Urahara thought triumphantly. "You also should know by now that I know exactly what you were before and I have no qualms about telling your owners in the other room, so I will advise you against any rash behavior."

But what exactly was he supposed to do? He had the creature successfully backed into a corner and held its life in the palm of his hand, but none of this hinted at what he should _do._ By all rights, he should have ended its existence the moment he knew it had a Hollow nature. That was what being a Shinigami dictated and he could feel Benihime stir within her confines inside his cane. But then, weren't Vaizards of a Hollow nature as well? The line drawn between Hollow and Shingami wasn't so clear anymore. Also, Urahara was very curious.

"Well, Arrancar, it seems we're both in a pickle here. I don't know what your leader is planning or what he means by transforming you into cat. But I'm sure you can tell me eventually." He paused, making sure he had the animal's full attention before continuing. "From what I can gather, there is a chance that your reiatsu can condense and you can fully access it if you are near another being with high reiatsu levels. Meaning, there is a possibility you may be able to transform back into an Arrancar without experiencing the Hougyoku again. Though, you must understand there are no guarantees."

The feline was paying rapt attention to his every word, giving another slight nod.

So why was he telling it all this? "There is still much more research and knowledge that could be gathered from your current state, even if you do eventually transform back. I could be able to find out exactly what Aizen has done to adjust the Hougyoku, or I could test your dispersed reiatsu for more information on the Arrancars in general. So I'll make you a deal. I won't reveal your true identity to your owners in return for more opportunities in the future to examine you. If you refuse, I'll tell them and leave your fate to their hands."

Urahara knew he was playing with fire, but damn if he would let an opportunity like this go. After all, he had a promise to keep to the Vaizards.

He waited with bated breath until finally, _finally_, the animal gave its consent. There wasn't much of an option in the first place, and it knew that it was cornered. Though, the searing death glare never lessened in its intensity. "Excellent!" Without warning, the blond's mood took a complete turn and he almost beamed. Quickly, he gathered the animal in his arms and proceeded to return to the back room.

A quick cough announced his presence to the room's two occupants. Two pairs of eyes immediately landed on him, waiting expectantly for the verdict. Urahara deliberately waited a few seconds until the suspense was quite ready to choke. "Well, it would seem Rukia is right this time. I suppose you two have just simply found a very special cat." He calmly waited until Rukia's outburst of 'Ha! I told you so!' quieted down, before continuing. "However, you might want to bring it back for regular check-ups in the future, especially if you sense any change in its reiatsu level."

Rukia grinned happily, walking over to carefully take back her pet. She expected a few more scratches from the energetic animal, but was surprised when it just sat still in her arms. Perhaps it was finally tired? "Thank you, Urahara-san! If there's nothing else, we'll get going then."

The blond's eyes twinkled at the girl's words, and he whipped out his fan in a perfect sneaky salesman imitation. "Actually, a large shipment of Soul Candy just arrived today and I believe you mentioned something about being low on supply of Chappy the Rabbit…?" He quickly steered Rukia back towards his shop, commenting on the low prices.

"Hey! What about me?" The duo turned around to face an indignant Ichigo, completely left out on what had just occurred.

Urahara once again waved his fan dismissively. "You can sit on the front steps outside until we're done." He started to turn back around, before suddenly remembering something. "Oh! It'd be easier if you took your cat too."

* * *

Before long, Ichigo found himself idly waiting outside on the front porch of the shop. He was scowling heavily at the dirt ground, kicking a pebble every now and then. Rukia sure took her sweet time deciding which color of Chappy the Rabbit dispenser looked better. Maybe visiting Urahara that day was a poor choice on his part. He was now rotting outside in the sun rather than rotting inside a classroom. Besides, that stupid cat turned out alright after all. Now, there was absolutely no chance of it going anywhere other than under _his_ roof. Not that fortune was ever on his side anyway.

The front of his worn sneakers stopped midway in front of another stray pebble when he spotted the source of his annoyance slinking out the front door. If it was possible, his mood sunk another notch. The feline bounded over to the edge of the porch, blinking down before turning its impossibly blue eyes at the teen. It swished its sleek black tail from side to side, and then a small pink tongue appeared to lick off a speck on its cheek.

Ichigo, of course, did not give in to what dozens of schoolgirls would label as 'cute'. "What do you want?" He spoke rather callously.

He had half a mind to return to his sulking, ignoring the cat, when it suddenly surprised him by padding over and nudging its way into his lap. "The hell…?!" Ichigo sputtered, not knowing whether to push the pet away or to abruptly stand up to let it drop or to call Rukia for help. A pathetic feeling of lameness washed over him as he cursed his own inexperience with animals. He froze for a brief moment when he saw that the cat just laid there in his lap, doing absolutely nothing. No scratching. No biting. Just stretched out looking cozy in his lap.

His first thought was that it was all a trap. The little furball had upgraded to a new level of evil and had decided to play nice at first, gaining his trust, before giving him another dose of pain in the chest. But Kurosaki Ichigo was a smarter man than that and never underestimated his opponents. He sat there for a few more seconds, staring at his lap suspiciously. A few more moments ticked by and the cat still showed no sign of movement.

Maybe miracles did happen. Whatever Urahara did in his analysis apparently made the animal suddenly turn non-aggressive. Ichigo became increasingly aware of the growing warmth on his thighs from the cat's body heat. If it always acted like this, then Ichigo would be more tempted to let it stay. Hesitantly, he lifted a hand in the air, bringing it down gingerly on the black fur. He waited another second for a reaction, but still nothing came. The fur felt softer than it looked, almost silky. Before he knew what exactly he was doing, the pleasantly surprised teen was slowly stroking the soft fur of cat's back, occasionally using one finger to scratch between the two upright ears. His scowl softened a little. Maybe Rukia was right in more than one way. He might as well get used to it if the animal was staying permanently.

He never liked fighting losing battles.

* * *

A/N: Yes, Ichigo is being used.

Kudos to Urahara to steer things in the right direction. XD


	6. Six

Felis Domesticus

A/N: Oi! Guys! Look! I'm not dead! Magic! (Besides, it's lucky number six. 8D)

**6**

* * *

It had barely been a week before Ichigo was once again feeling discontent. Granted, he always seemed discontent, what with that ever-present scowl attached firmly to his face. Though, due to recent events, he was just glad it was a scowl and not a certain cat on his face.

But that wasn't saying much.

That batty Urahara must have worked more magic than Ichigo gave him credit for. With one visit, his beloved Aoi had suddenly transformed from a provoked porcupine to his personal shadow. When he would sit, it would invariably nestle within his lap. When he would stand, it would invariably hop up to the nearest counter. When he would sleep, it would invariably curl up on the far side of his bed. To his horror, he even opened up his school bag one bright morning in class to find it tucked deep inside among the scattered papers and textbooks.

It took all the self-restraint he had built up over the months to not immediately let out a hoarse yell of shock and outrage. It took even more effort to try and act ordinarily the rest of the school day, the fact that he harbored a pet within his school bag grated against his conscience for a good six hours. He had prayed to all the deities he knew for his cat to not let out an audible mewl or squirm too much; this fear was heightened during his testing periods, when the classroom was completely silent. Fortunately, his prayers seemed to have been answered, for the feline remained silent and motionless within his school bag. When he returned home, he awarded the furball with a good yelling fit that would have done Madarame Ikakku proud.

However, a week had passed since his critical visit to Urahara and Ichigo was beginning to sense an uneasiness building within his gut. He was beginning to question if the current behaviors his pet exhibited were normal for a cat. Loathe as he was to admit, he had finally decided upon the fact that the feline demonstrated vast intelligence; intelligence that was almost beyond the ability of an ordinary animal and seemed to stretch into the realm of a human's…

Of course, Ichigo retaliated by considering his inexperience with pets. Who was he to say what constituted as _normal_ intelligence for an animal? It nevertheless didn't stop him from lying awake at night, pondering over the strange glints within those cerulean eyes or the obvious body language expressed, until his own chagrin at the ridiculousness of it all forced him into slumber. Then there were nights when he would wait until Aoi was fast asleep before gently running his long fingers over the cat's blue-black fur, thinking about everything and nothing, and wonder if Fate would ever throw something completely normal his way.

Outside the window, the moon would always set and the sun would always rise too soon.

* * *

Aizen Sousuke knew he was a bastard.

In fact, he was a backstabbing, downright evil son of a bitch. However, he figured that if he were the most handsome, cunning, and ambitious son of a bitch, then he would proudly take up that title. Who else could betray Soul Society on such a large scale? Who else could take up residence in the Hollow World itself and amass an army worth of the most elite Shinigami? Who else could have the Vasto Lorde dancing in the palm of his hand? Who else could smirk so perfectly, to cause even Orihime to go weak at the knees?

Aizen prided himself on his unprecedented accomplishments and the threatening force of his Espada. His feelings were similar to a child bent over a priceless coin collection: each round piece of metal shinier than the one before. When the time came to finally confront Soul Society in war, he would make sure he used each one to their full potential. The Key would be his; the taste of inevitable victory staining his tongue. Only then will his true reign begin.

However, even Aizen was not completely perfect. It wasn't a pressing issue that needed his urgent care; rather it could be classified as a mere burr to his side. But it nagged at the outer fringes of his mind, somehow always able to catch a fraction of his attention. He supposed it was because there was always going to be a black sheep of the herd, no matter how hard he tried.

It just so happened that the Sexta Espada, Grimmjow, was his black sheep.

Of course, Aizen would have preferred if _all_ his Arrancars were like Ulquiorra, but that was just wishful thinking. Every Hollow was different and unique, and it really shouldn't matter to him what their personality was like as long as they were useful to him. However, there was only so much impudence and annoyance he could take before an example had to be set. He had been entertaining the idea of somehow humbling Grimmjow for a while now, and it would be a shame to let such an ingenious idea go to waste. Besides, just the sheer horror reflected in the cerulean eyes of his sixth Espada was enough entertainment to last him until the winter confrontation with Soul Society. On top of that, he had thoroughly enjoyed the rare semblance of tranquility that had descended upon Las Noches. Though, now that Grimmjow was gone, that Nnoitra was in danger of becoming the second example.

"Hmm. I _am_ curious. How do you think little Grimmjow is getting along?" The voice of the former Third Division captain cut through the haze of his thoughts. "How long do you plan on keeping up his punishment?"

Aizen tapped the metal of the armrest, his lazy gaze wandering over Gin's fox-like features. "It has been less than two weeks. There's little need for concern yet."

Gin gave a nod in quiet acknowledgement. "However, based on Szayel's instruments, I have noticed increasing reiatsu fluctuations from him due to the transformation. This will attract lesser Hollows to his vicinity."

The rhythmic tapping suddenly ceased and the voice that sounded from the ex-captain's mouth was wrapped in iron. "Has it ever occurred to you that perhaps that's exactly what he needs? Maybe even _deserves_?" Honestly, what was the point of a good punishment if he went soft like Gin?

"He needs to understand fear." Aizen continued. "He needs to understand helplessness. He needs to understand he is nothing more than what I have created him to become."

Sensing the matter was closed, the silver-haired Shinigami fell silent.

Aizen leaned back in his chair, resuming the habitual tapping. He supposed his former vice captain had a point; the matter still felt like it had some loose ends. If there was one thing Aizen despised, it was loose ends. You never know when the strands will come back and strangle you. His voice was considerably more serene when he spoke again. "Though, it's best to be prepared in case anything unfortunate should happen to Grimmjow. Send out both Menoly and Loly. They have better uses than harassing Inuoe Orihime."

More satisfied, Gin moved to carry out his orders, but before he reached the enormous double doors at the end of the room, Aizen's voice resonated within the chamber again.

"And summon Luppi, would you?"

Finally, Gin allowed himself a wide grin.

* * *

Ichigo groaned loudly as he stubbed his little toe on the way to the bathroom, letting out a string of curses that he was glad his father and sisters weren't in the house to hear. There was no telling what his dear old man would do as punishment. It didn't help that he was half naked, with only a fluffy and too small pink towel wrapped around his slim waist.

It would appear that Yuzu had pushed laundry to the last of her weekly chores that week, leaving Ichigo with only her own bath towel on the rack when he decided to take a refreshing shower that night. His father had taken the two girls and Rukia out to see another special live Don Kanonji show. This time, he had adamantly refused to tag along, even with the knowledge that he'd be rooted to the house alone with Aoi. Rukia seemed especially giddy, mumbling something about 'quality time' and 'bonding'. Not that it made any sense to him to begin with.

He had been making good use of the quiet alone time to study for an important exam when he suddenly realized that the house was boiling, causing him to sweat like a pig all over his exam preparatory materials. Deciding that a lukewarm shower would help him freshen up, he had stripped off all clothing before deciding to open his bedroom window to air out the room. That was how he found himself, cursing like an uncultured street kid in front of the bathroom with only a towel around his waist. At a closer inspection, he also discovered that there was a pattern of yellow rubber ducks across the pink background.

The redhead composed himself just in time to notice his pet slinking up the stairs, the feline stopping dead in his tracks on top of the landing. Luminous cerulean orbs fixed themselves on Ichigo's half naked form, blinking almost owlishly up at him. It wasn't an intense and awkward stare, rather just an unexpected and caught unawares kind of stare. Ichigo didn't know exactly how he knew this.

"You have five seconds to look away."

Surprisingly, the cat inched closer, eyes narrowing in an almost challenging way. Suddenly, the throbbing in his small toe ebbed away as a brief image of Grimmjow flashed inside his mind. Ichigo's face contorted slightly, his rebellious mind racing through all the tiny details of his enemy, details he hadn't known he had picked up until then.

There was the wild hair, just as unruly as his own and sporting a color just as ridiculous as well. It was loud. It was obnoxious. Frankly, he had never seen anything like it. Then there were the eyes, the _eyes_, a blue so vibrant that it make all other pairs of eyes he had seen dull by comparison. The twin cobalt pools reflected defiance, madness, and a desire to win at everything. It was reminiscent of the look in his own Hollow self's eyes, and the thought had greatly disturbed him. Lower down was the grin, a grin that showed too much teeth to be completely innocent. It radiated confidence and wicked intentions. Ichigo never felt a stronger urge than to wipe that infuriating grin off. The rest of him didn't get any better. The immaculately bleached jacket was almost scandalous compared to his own formal attire, and the amount of skin shown during the few times they had fought was entirely too distracting.

Before he could control himself, an angry flush bloomed across his cheeks, and he willed away further images of the teal-haired freak. Shooting his pet a dirty glance in response, he strode inside the bathroom. If nothing else, he could always unhook the showerhead and spray the feline if it continued to provoke him. With an uncharacteristic smirk, he dropped his towel and stepped inside the shower.

Ichigo turned his head around, instinct whispering to him to keep an eye on his pet just in case. The cat had moved from the top of the stairs to quietly pad across his bedroom, aiming for beneath the window. With a snort, Ichigo finally closed the sliding shower doors, his left hand reaching for the water tap. Through the distortion of the transparent doors, he could still see the faint black smudge of his pet crouched below his window.

He twisted the knob.

Just as the first droplets of cold water splashed onto his skin, his eyes widened as he saw the black smudge leap onto the windowsill and disappear into the still darkness of the night.

* * *

"AOI!"

If the sheer force of his loud cry didn't crack the sliding shower doors, then the force of his arm throwing it open almost did. Ichigo didn't think; he just acted. The stream of water was quickly shut off and the pink towel snatched off the floor in a hasty effort to scramble to his bedroom window.

_What the fuck?! That was a two-story house he just jumped out of! What's Rukia gonna say when she finds a mangled splat outside my bedroom window?! I didn't rescue the damn thing only to watch it commit suicide right in front of me!_

He thrust his crown of orange hair out the window, eyes frantically searching the ground below for any signs of the cat. A quick sweep of the sidewalk revealed nothing. With a particularly potent curse, Ichigo did the only thing he could have thought up with half his torso stuck out a two-story window. His grip tightened on the flimsy towel and sucking in a deep breath, he leapt out the window himself.

Rukia would personally make him a _real_ Shinigami if that cat wasn't returned.

_He couldn't have gotten very far…_ He reasoned to himself, mostly to comfort his sudden moment of panic. The redhead scanned both sides of the empty street, finally spotting a small form round the corner underneath the glow of the streetlights. Hoping that no random soul would suddenly have the urge to look out the window that night, he proceeded to sprint down the street after it.

For the first time in his life, Ichigo felt thankful for the invention of pants. He had never ran so ungracefully and awkward in his life than down the street with only a fluffy pink towel gripped around his waist. What would his friends say if they saw him now? The worst part of it was that he had to constantly hitch up the towel as it had a tendency to slip down his hipbones after every couple of strides. Perhaps that was why when he rounded the same corner, his target was nowhere in sight again.

With a strangled cry of agony, he kept on sprinting ahead anyway, all of his senses peeled for any signs of a cat on the loose. It didn't help that his Aoi's fur was a dark color; it blended too well with the darkness. Ichigo squinted through the inky background, spotting an intersection ahead. A streetlight was erected beside it, and a glimmer of hope surfaced within him as he saw a dark-furred animal dart through the yellow light. He increased his pace, wincing as stray gravel dug into the soles of his feet. His target seemed to be slowing down a bit, and if he ran just a little faster, there was a chance he could at least grab it by the swishing tail.

Closer… closer…

The glimmer of hope plummeted down to his stomach as the unmistakable form of a Garganta suddenly sliced through the thin air.

The small form ahead came to a complete halt. Ichigo knew it was his only chance. With a leap that would have done long jumpers proud, he looped his free arm around the underside and brought the creature close to his naked chest. However, any silent victories in his mind died when there was now a much _much_ bigger problem to confront.

Ichigo didn't even bother to look at the dark shadows emerging from the unnatural rip connecting the two worlds; he turned on his heel and ran for his life in the opposite direction.

Gargantas meant only one thing: Hollows, and more likely, Arrancars.

The latter assumption was confirmed as a high-pitched girlish giggle echoed down the deserted street and the quiet night was suddenly illuminated by the beginning formation of a cero.

"Ne, Menoly… Is _that_ what Aizen-sama wanted us to watch over?"

A condescending chuckle sounded in response. "Hmm. Pathetic."

All the tiny hairs on the back of Ichigo's neck raised as the crimson cero shot past him, grazing his ear and singeing a few loose orange strands. Resigned anger boiled within his gut; he knew he could do nothing against his foes, not when they were of at least Numero rank and he missing his zanpakuto. Besides, he couldn't afford to think of only himself, not when the soul of his own pet was on the line as well. He tried to remind himself that he was doing this because he didn't want his previous heroic deed to be a waste if the cat died, but something urged him to tighten his grip on the squirming thing and concentrate on sprinting as fast as he could. The loose towel did not help.

"Huh… Aizen-sama didn't inform us that there would be someone protecting him. I wonder, Menoly, if the human can see us." A female voice sounded once more, laced with contempt.

"There's only one way to find out."

Ichigo's heart skipped a beat at what he heard. Where was the town Shinigami on patrol? He knew there was no time to reach Rukia, but at least her cell phone would inform her of Hollows nearby. If only another Shinigami could intervene for just a moment to allow him time to transform, he could turn the tables on the Arrancars.

The night was illuminated in red once more and on instinct, Ichigo leapt as high as he could into the air, narrowly dodging the cero that fired into the ground. Shards of pavement and chunks of cement flew in all directions, the force of the explosion nearly pitching him face first into the ground. He winced as some of the debris imbedded themselves onto his bare back.

"Seems like he can. What do we do, Loly? Report back to Aizen-sama immediately or take out the human?" The second voice was female as well, but the words held less emotion behind them than her partner's.

Another high-pitched giggle tore its way out of Loly's throat. "Aizen-sama never specifically told us what to do _after_ we found that asshole. I was thinking we can just destroy him right now. I could care less about the worthless human."

Confusion clouded Ichigo's mind. The conversation behind him held less and less sense. _Aizen's behind this? How? Why would he have anything to do with a harmless cat?_ However, he did know one thing: the Arrancars were set on consuming the feline captured within his arm. _This mystery is growing more and more bizarre…_

As if on cue, his pet began relentlessly struggle within the redhead's hold, sharp claws extending out to scratch against the pale skin pressed behind him. Teeth were next, and he twisted and squirmed with all his might. "Stop moving!" Ichigo snapped at the convulsing animal, his run becoming even more awkward and his grasp involuntarily loosening. It would be all over if he were to be hit with a cero, his raw human reiatsu no match for the two Arrancars.

Another crimson blast ricocheted off the nearest building, spraying his face with dust particles and flecks of cement. His breath was forced out in heavy pants, his lungs and feet were burning, and there was the cool sensation of air resistance against the tiny trickles of blood down his chest from scratch wounds. He could see the blazing characters of Kurosaki Clinic dead ahead, the top floor window to his bedroom still wide open. _Just a little more…_ Then he would snatch his Shinigami badge and finally be able to fight.

All thoughts flew out of his head as the ground shook with an unprecedented force, propelling his body weight forward. With a dull thump, Ichigo landed heavily on the pavement, his palms and pectorals stinging from the resulting skid. _Shit!_ He remembered dropping the cat before he crushed it underneath his body weight. Something furry nudged against his side and he tried to regain the hold on his towel as well as scramble back onto his feet. Every second was precious, and he couldn't afford to lie down in the middle of the street like an easy target.

That's when the next cero grazed his right shoulder and he was forced down again, clenching his teeth in an effort not to cry out at the searing pain on his shoulder. The smell of burning flesh assaulted his nose, and wisps of smoke drifted up from the nasty wound. His hands clenched themselves into fists and he fought to see through the curtain of dust.

Panic squeezed his heart in an steel grip when he could no longer feel the pressure of fur on his side. Instead, something much heavier rested beside him, at least half of its weight leaning across his back. His first thought was that his body was trapped beneath a particularly heavy chunk of cement, before the _thing_ shifted and hot moist breath blew against his ear. The next moment, the breath was gone and the pressure disappeared.

Ichigo barely registered the shocked exclamations that suddenly sounded behind his prone form. The atmosphere had quickly changed and he knew something had gone horribly unplanned.

"Impossible…!" The female Arrancar's voice was now tinged with disbelief and unsuppressed fear. "How…?"

Then came a third voice, characterized as only a hoarse chuckle. The sound originated from the very core of the chest and swiftly gaining in both volume and insanity until it became a loud maniacal laughter. It echoed into the silent night, the sinister noise deep and masculine, sending chills down the spine of all who heard. "Surprised?" The single word was filled to the brim with twisted amusement.

Ichigo knew that voice. He knew that exact tone. He knew whom it belonged to. It was the same voice that haunted his restless nights and mocked him in the back of his mind.

That was all he could process before vibrant blue clouded his vision.

* * *

A/N: Another perfect place to stop, wouldn't you agree? O:D

And no, I have never gone running down the street at night with only a towel on, so pardon me if there are any inaccuracies in the depiction of the scene. XD


	7. Seven

Felis Domesticus

A/N: Warning: Most unrealistic battle ever.

**7**

* * *

Blue. Blue like the waters of a turbulent lake. Blue like the core of the most precious sapphire gem. Blue like the soft petals of a blooming cornflower.

Ichigo could not believe his ears. Deep within his chest, his heart thumped with a renewed frenetic tempo, sending blood rushing to his ears. His mind reeled at the reality around him. There was only one thing left to do. Slowly, with his breath escaping him in harsh puffs, he twisted his head around, staring behind him at the unexpected scene.

A familiar form stood with its back towards him, but Ichigo recognized it at once. There was no mistaking the confidence that leaked out in crashing waves, from the tip of the electric blue hair to the ends of the black-clad feet. The bleached white uniform billowed in the cool night breeze, almost blindingly bright and a beacon in the dark night. A sword hung relaxed against a strong hip, but the aura emitting from the object reminded one of a crouched panther, waiting to strike out with lethal precision.

_Grimmjow?_

* * *

Grimmjow hadn't felt this good in decades.

It seemed that acting like Kurosaki's shadow the past week had paid off. No longer was his reiatsu slippery and out of his reach, but consolidated around him and easily manipulated. The fight or flight instinct had blossomed within him the moment the Garganta had opened, and Grimmjow's natural reaction had always been to fight. One moment he was being jostled around against his rival's chest, and the next moment his reiatsu surged through his veins. He couldn't help but inhale deeply the night air, crisp and cool against his exposed flesh, already heated from his coursing blood. The power he felt flowing through him was electrifying, familiar and unmistakably his own.

Of course, his first sight after transforming back into an arrancar was made sweeter by the scene before him. The two female arrancar stood frozen in shock, horror and confusion etched onto their faces. Grimmjow could practically smell their fear and trepidation, contempt seeping into his blue eyes. His lips twisted into a maniacal sneer. No doubt these two were Aizen's lesser numeros, leaping to obey his every beck and call. The sheer audacity they had in thinking they could lay a finger on him caused his sneer to widen.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" He jeered, flexing his fingers and feeling the itch of wanting to wield a blade.

Loly was the first to snap from her stupor, her face distorting in anger, teeth clenched in fury. "I'll show you…!" Her hand flew to the hilt of her sword.

But before she could attack, Menoly proved to be faster. A searing red cero blasted forth from her hand, aimed straight at Grimmjow.

The attack did nothing to faze him, and he easily deflected the blast. _Weak! Too weak! _Without a moment's pause, he returned one of his own. The red cero shot through the air in a crimson streak, lighting fast, impacting upon the blonde arrancar square in the stomach. The force tossed her back, flinging her body like a rag doll until she collided into the nearest building, leaving a crater-sized dent in the steel. She crumpled onto the pavement, unmoving.

"Menoly!" Loly shrieked at her partner. "You bastard!" She snarled at Grimmjow, blind rage sending her to unsheathe her sword, using sonido to speed towards her opponent.

Her body was arched forward like a strung bow in the air, sword ready to strike a deadly blow. _Slow! Too slow!_ To Grimmjow, she might as well be standing still. Sidestepping her attack, he raised his hand in the form of a claw. With a burst of reiatsu to the fingertips, he viciously sliced across her chest. Black blood exploded into the air, the skin and clothing like butter underneath his fingers.

A weak gasp fled between Loly's lips, her violet eyes widening in pain. She dropped her sword, her legs giving way underneath her. Her hands flew up to clutch at her gaping wounds in a futile attempt to staunch the rapid blood flow. She coughed in agony, thick globules of blood dripping down and splattering onto the concrete. The pain was crippling, and she pitched forward, falling into the pool of her own blood.

Grimmjow raised his hand, the red glow of an incinerating cero shot already beginning to form.

"Wait."

The voice was low, but didn't lack in strength or conviction. Grimmjow turned to regard the voice, surprised by the sudden outburst, the cero in his hand dissipating.

It was the shinigami, still lying prone on the ground. The cero wound on his shoulder still steamed, and flying debris had made numerous visible cuts across his torso. His right hand still clutched the pink bath towel, making his presence on the battlefield almost comedic. He was definitely worse for wear, but the determined frown on his face was as intense as ever, gaze fixated on the quivering mass of bloody arrancar flesh. There was something stirring behind those piercing brown eyes, ever a clear window into all his emotions. Pity? Mercy? Compassion? Grimmjow found that he couldn't decide.

"What?" He spat callously. "You should know by now that this is the nature of things. Weaker beings only give way to stronger ones. What more use do I have for them?"

The redhead's facial expression didn't change, still staring at the fallen arrancar as if Grimmjow hadn't spoken a word. "They're defeated. What more do you want?"

Grimmjow bit back a snarl. He would like nothing better than to smash that righteous face into the ground. His existence was shaped by his experiences in the Menos Forest, something the boy knew nothing about. A kill or be killed world was nothing but cruel, no time for useless trifles such as pity or remorse. Count on Kurosaki to be infuriating at precisely the right moments.

Still, Aizen's lapdogs weren't the highlight of the night.

Against his instincts, Grimmjow relented and opened a Garganta, its gaping maw rivaling the black of the night. He grabbed Loly by the scruff of her neck, effortlessly lifting her into the air. She coughed and whimpered, flecks of blood staining his bleached sleeves. With a ruthless kick to the midsection, Grimmjow unceremoniously sent her back to Hueco Mundo, the void soundlessly closing behind him.

A breeze picked up as Grimmjow turned back to regard his nemesis. The shinigami was slowly rising to his feet, warily eyeing him back, traces of incredulity and confusion still lingering on his face. The wind did nothing to cool his emotions, and Grimmjow reveled in the inevitable wave of lust for battle. This was his chance. This was his moment to pummel Kurosaki within an inch of his life for the past few weeks. A rising typhoon swirled within his chest, fueled by the desire to destroy and wreak havoc. He couldn't help but lick his bloodless lips, practically tasting the oncoming fight.

"You're next." He all but purred at his rival.

* * *

Ten strides.

No more than ten strides and a jump separating him from his bedroom, where he knew his Shinigami badge was located.

Ichigo had tensed immediately as the ominous words left Grimmjow's lips. He might still be bewildered at how his house cat had suddenly turned into his archnemesis sworn to defeat him, but reality could pack a mean backhand. There was no time for speculations and astonishment. There was no time for even questions. Worse of all, there was no time for decent clothing. Of course, Rukia was going to have a cow, but there was no time to dwell on that either.

The distance separating him from the Clinic wasn't far, but would Grimmjow let him reach it? The arrancar was terrifyingly strong and fast, there was no doubt about that. Ichigo was at a severe disadvantage with no means of protecting himself against a fully equipped Espada. He could crush him at any moment; the only question would be how soon.

Perhaps if he could outmaneuver his enemy and race for his bedroom window, there was a chance… Ichigo couldn't afford to hesitate. All his intent was focused on flight, his body subconsciously bracing for any preemptive blows.

He froze when Grimmjow's sword was tossed through the air, skittering to a halt a few paces away from them.

_The hell?! _The confusion returned with a vengeance, Ichigo's mind racing to analyze the situation. The teal-haired arrancar was still grinning like a madman, acting as if he had just thrown aside a stray piece of trash rather than the vessel of his true form.

Grimmjow didn't stop there. In one swift move, he took off his jacket as well, the flimsy material landing in a heap at his feet. It was only when he reached along his hakama that Ichigo finally couldn't contain his outburst.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Alarm bells were beginning to sound in his brain, and a strange twisting sensation began in his gut.

If possible, Grimmjow's grin became even more feral. "I don't need a sword to defeat you." A ripping noise punctuated his words, and his hakama was quickly torn off at the upper thighs. The shoes came off next. "Nor do I need clothes."

Ichigo was given no warning. A blue blur. Pain engulfed his right cheek, before he found himself sailing through the air, crashing into a street light. Almost immediately, a coppery tang welled up in his mouth. He shook his head to clear away the sudden dizziness, struggling to stand up, and spitting out a tooth in the process.

"Listen, Kurosaki. You're gonna die from my bare hands alone." A murderous glint stained the cerulean pools that were the Espada's eyes. "And after that, I'm going after the girl."

_Rukia!_ Red clouded the edges of Ichigo's vision. Vivid images of the last time he and Rukia had clashed with Grimmjow surfaced within his mind. Granted he was much stronger than that time, but just remembering that night still made his palm tingle. Was Grimmjow actually serious? Who was he kidding? Grimmjow was always serious. Psychotic, but serious.

With a renewed determination, the redhead scrambled to his feet. The fight at both their current condition, reflecting Grimmjow's skewed honor code, would have to do. Gritting his teeth, he quickly made a knot with his bath towel, securing it around his waist.

He was afforded only a split-second to defend against another attack: this time, a well-aimed kick to the legs.

Ichigo leapt into the air, narrowly avoiding a swipe to the shoulder. He twisted around, aiming a punch at Grimmjow's face. The arrancar caught his fist easily, swinging him around and using his own momentum to send him flying again. Ichigo's mind raced in mid-air, trying to pinpoint the location of his enemy. He saw the knee too late.

_Wham! _All the air was brutally squeezed out of lungs as the bony knee collided with his abdomen, leaving him without even a voice to cry out. Scarlet rain fell onto the pavement below, before Ichigo realized it was his own blood spewing from his mouth. The pain alone made his vision swim with black spots, and he was sure his lower two ribs had instantly smashed upon impact.

It was sheer force of will that allowed him to get back up onto his feet, savagely wiping his lips with the back of a wrist. He gave a wheezing cough, panting heavily. Grimmjow landed a few feet away, barely scratched. "That all you got?"

The merciless taunt was poison to his ears. Ichigo's blood boiled at the sight of that cocky smirk. If only he had his zanpakuto, he'd wipe that smirk off faster than Grimmjow could blink. _Focus!_ He berated himself. He may not be the best at reiatsu control, but if he focused all his energy on defense... At least it wouldn't be a closed casket at his funeral.

Grimmjow charged.

Ichigo raised both his hands to block, dimly aware of the resounding _crack! _of their two arms colliding. He held his ground for a moment, struggling against the Espada's inhuman strength bearing down upon him. But it wasn't enough. Slowly, he was beginning to be pushed back, a searing burn on the bottom of his feet as they desperately tried to dig into the hard ground.

Grimmjow doubled his effort, and succeeded in slamming him against the cracked brick of a building. Ichigo ignored the stinging pain of torn skin on his back, feeling the tell-tale warm wet sensation of blood trickling down and soaking into the pink bath towel. His mouth was aching from clenching and grinding his teeth, but the pressure against his back only increased.

_Focus! Focus! _The word became almost a chant inside his mind. He let out a cry, hearing the cracks of the brick widen, close to collapsing point.

The brick wall gave way, and Ichigo tumbled into the dust and debris. His back was numb, bruised and battered into a bloody raw mess. He choked on the dust, agony coursing through his entire body.

Grimmjow was upon him in an instant. The arrancar leapt over the rubble, pouncing on Ichigo's prone form. A brief grappling brawl ensued, each one fighting for dominance and the upper position. It ended when Ichigo caught his head on a large piece of jagged brick, slicing his forehead and giving Grimmjow the upper hand.

A solid weight dug into his lower stomach and strong hands clasped around his neck in an iron grip. Ichigo abandoned all pretenses of mental calm. His own hands flew up to cover the offending grip, futilely trying to suck in air. He could only emit loud strangling sounds, choking and gasping for breath. The full weight of Grimmjow's willpower and reiatsu crashed down upon him, his enemy's face mere inches from his own.

He was suffocating, not just from lack of oxygen, but from the encompassing heat suddenly wrapping around him. Sweat had made both their skin sticky and slick, the beads of liquid snaking down to pool wherever their naked skin came in contact. Grimmjow's skin burned as if on fire, hot blood pulsing underneath. Warm breath fanned across his face, adding to the heat. The atmosphere was stifling, and his vision was filled with nothing but cerulean eyes boring into his own. They stared him down, as if trying to incinerate his very soul in an inferno of blue fire. Ichigo couldn't help but feel like a trapped prey right in the mouth of a predator.

The squeezing clamp around his throat only grew worse, fingers relentlessly pressing against his windpipe. Black spots swirled and exploded in his vision, and he was quickly growing light-headed. His lungs burned with exertion, and his heart felt as if it was going to explode at any minute. His grip was already becoming weaker and weaker, slippery from clawing at Grimmjow's hands until the skin broke underneath his fingernails.

Suddenly, Grimmjow's face contorted into alarm, blue eyes widening. His hands loosened a fraction, allowing Ichigo to refocus enough to sense rapidly approaching reiatsu signatures. From the feel of it, there was more than one, all of them formidable shinigami.

In the instant his enemy's attention wavered, Ichigo saw a brief opening. Using the last of his strength, he summoned all his power into his hand, stretched out his arm, and delivered a bone-shaking backhand onto Grimmjow's unprotected cheek.

The force was enough to knock him back, toppling his balance and forcing him to roll away. Immediately, Ichigo gulped down mouthfuls of air, relief flooding his abused lungs. He quickly resumed the defensive again, not wasting his chance, crouching on the pads of his feet and steadying himself for another attack.

Grimmjow was livid. A thin trickle of blood dripped down from the corner of his lip, but what attracted all the attention was the angry red imprint embedded into his left cheek. All four finger marks were clearly visible, stark against his peach-colored skin.

"You just signed your death warrant. Twice." He ground out, fury painting every syllable.

Instead of attacking again, Grimmjow's eyes darted to the side, scanning the night skyline for signs of the oncoming reinforcements. Ichigo's gaze followed, soon recognizing Rukia's reiatsu and sensing the familiarity of the others. It was no mystery that their brawl must have attracted a wide radius of attention. Relief welled up within him, but he couldn't dismiss the nagging irritation at the back of mind for interrupting their fight.

_A one-sided fight in which you could have very well died._ Ichigo firmly reminded himself, swiftly quelling the nagging irritation.

He looked back towards Grimmjow, only to find settling dust and rubble. The arrancar had disappeared.

Alarm raced through him, and he sprung up, eyes frantically searching for any sign of his nemesis. There was nothing, not even a streak of electric blue hair or a flash of bleached clothing. Grimmjow had simply stole away, leaving nothing behind but the cool night breeze against his naked skin.

"Grimmjow! Grimmjow!" Ichigo found himself calling out into the dark night, ignoring the fact that the very person whom he was calling out to had just thoroughly wiped the floor with his teenage ass. Only silence answered him.

A soft thud sounded behind him. "I… Ichigo?!"

He whipped around, locking gazes with none other than the petite form of Kuchiki Rukia. A scandalized expression was fixed on her face, and she looked as if she couldn't decide whether to loosen her grip on the hilt of her zanpakuto or to tighten it. Her large violet eyes roamed over Ichigo's almost naked form, a perceptible twitching already beginning in one eye. "What… is the meaning of this?" Her voice came out low and dangerous.

"I… I can explain!" He burst out without thinking, suddenly feeling very exposed and indecent. His mind furiously tried to churn out an escape plan, but he saw nothing except for broken buildings and steaming rubble strewn over the block right before his house. He could only imagine what he looked like, a mangled bleeding lone figure amidst the backdrop of a suburban wreck.

"Then you better start now."

Another voice joined the fray. Ichigo's pride plummeted to rock bottom when the speaker revealed itself. Turquoise eyes, holding an emotion a notch above disdain, pierced into his own as Hitsugaya Toshiro stepped into the light in all his captain glory, his spiky white hair adding a few inches to his otherwise midget height. He folded his arms across his chest, patiently waiting. Behind him, Matsumoto Rangiku was trying desperately not to burst a vein from stifling hysterical laughter, her enormous bosom bobbing up and down with the effort.

"Shit, man." The last voice to arrive did nothing to spare Ichigo any embarrassment. Tell-tale red hair fluttered in the breeze as Abarai Renji landed beside Rukia. For once, the brash shinigami was at a loss for words, though his open gaping at Ichigo was no better.

Rukia. Toshiro. Rangiku. Renji. All that was missing was his family.

Ichigo wanted to bury himself beneath the chunks of the ruined buildings and never see the light of day again. He steeled his nerves, gripped his pink bath towel hanging limply around his hips, and opened his mouth.

* * *

A/N: Two year hiatus? What two year hiatus?


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